


Heart of a Serial Killer

by porcelainsilver



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, BadBoy!Zayn, Cannibalism, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Stalking, Unrequited Love, Violence, graphic descriptions of death, innocent!louis, murderer!Harry, murderer!Niall, not quite sure what liam is yet!Liam, satanic rituals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:34:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsilver/pseuds/porcelainsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is a well known, world class serial killer who goes by a deficient name and is the start of the London City Massacre. Homicide is what he lives by and death is what he's always known. Harry was never one for relationships and such, but when he meets a certain blue-eyed primadonna, Harry knows he must have him. And nothing gets in the way of Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this story aint for everyone. It is going to be pretty graphic, so if y'all aint okay with descriptions of blood, guts, gore, possible rape, violence and psychopaths; then please dont read.
> 
> I am admittedly a very, very twisted individual and this story has been playing on my mind repeatedly ever since I saw that there is nothing with Necrophilia in it. So, if you're as mentally unstable and antisocial as me, then Im pretty sure you might enjoy the story.
> 
> Happy reading ! -Porcelain.xx
> 
> P.S.: as much as I wish to own One Direction, I dont. This story is pure fiction, and I do not own any characters except for those of my friends and add ins.

Harry Styles never had a normal life.

Ever since he was a young child, he'd had a thing for destruction. One would think, that when he grew older he'd get a job with a company that allows people to knock down abandoned buildings and houses, but Harry didnt like that kind of destruction; not if there was no one inside at the time.

You see; if a kid at the beach built a sandcastle, he'd destroy it within seconds. If a kid at school made something out of cardboard and glue, he'd tear it to pieces. If someone cared for something he'd hurt or destroy it in some way, shape or form; all the while laughing in their faces and enjoying the sounds of their sobs. Harry was never sure why he enjoyed it so much, destorying and unhappiness and the tears of others he didnt particularly care for, but he was certain about one thing; he'd been psychotic from a young age.

When he was four, he would shred a classmates painting or their favorite book. When he was seven, he'd rip the heads of Barbie dolls and toy soldiers and would tear open teddy bears and yank the stuffing out. When he was ten, he started to progress in his unbelievable antics and would capture a forest animal, only to end its misery after killing and dissecting it, placing the organs on a tray for examination later. When Harry was fourteen, though, he took the next step in his psychotic elements; he had decided to take his first human life.

It had taken some thought and consideration, trying to figure out ways to dodge the police as so he wouldnt get caught, but with the amount of knowledge he'd received from watching murder investigation shows; he had figured out what and what not to do.

The night he took that life, was the night he turned into an adult, so he thought. He had snuck up on her, had been following her into her home without her noticing, though it wasnt like he made noise. He didnt even allow her to scream as he pressed the knife to her neck, knowing the close proximity of the her neighbors, and how they'd know something was up. He had watched as he brought the knife along that short crease of her neck, close to where her pulse was. He watched as the life died in her eyes and the blood come pouring out of her dead body and cover the flush carpet that he had dropped her on.

He had gotten a rush, a thrill of the kill. And he liked it. He continued in his antics, years after the first death and around the time the police had found the seventh body, London found out that there was a serial killer on the loose. London had named the repeated reports of dead bodies the 'London City Massacre' and Harry was soon known as 'Crimson'.

No one was going to catch him, no one would even suspect him. Along with his unstable mentality, he was a pathological liar. With the ability to convince someone he didnt do something, as well as his innocent looks and flattery towards a said person, he was fine.

Now, four years down the track, 284 deceased bodies later, here he was. Walking down an unsuspecting, busy London street. He hadnt murdered anyone for almost an entire two months. That was his new record, and he didnt want to extend it.

Everyone in London now never came out at night and if they did, it was with a group of people and never alone. No one agreed to dates with random strangers, everyone had a form of weapon with them and no one trusted anybody; which made everything so much harder for Harry. Not impossible, but harder.

Didnt mean he wouldnt get what he wanted, though.

As he walked into the cafe, he took in the disgusting but equally pleasing sight before him. The cafe was almost completely full. Everyone was lively and having a great chat, but they all had a dark gloom surrounding their bodies. Like trying to stay strong while everything crumpled around them; and trying to smile through the excruciating pain that was imbedded in their brains. This pleased Harry dearly.

Harry took a seat at an empty table somewhere around the middle. He took on his hunched position, trying to look as nervous and innocent as he could manage, while scanning the crowd. No one paid him any attention, knowing what that could lead to, he was thankful.

Nobody in the vacinity seemed to grace the line of intriguing for him. They all seemed pretty dull and boring, no matter how lively they acted. He always wanted a paranoid victim, they were quite fun. Especially when he was chasing them beforehand.

Sometimes he'd settle for a optimisic victim, always assuming they'd make it out alive no matter how close the knife would be held to their throat. He liked seeing their hopes fade like the life in their eyes; just getting dimmer and dimmer until there was nothing left. He'd usually laugh like the psychotic maniac he was after; laughing for destroying yet another humans dreams in almost the same alike way his were shattered.

But his favorite ? His favorite were the hyperactive ones. You'd act as crazy and weird as them then you'd watch the horror come over their faces as you showed them you werent crazy just for the hell of it. Hyperactive ones were also kind of snobby. Once they saw their life flash before their eyes on the shiny machete you held, they'd start offering anything and everything they could. Harry remembered his second-to-last victim, a middle-aged rich man who didnt really care for anything. He remembered that man offering what he could if it meant he'd stay alive, even offering for Harry to take his children instead of him. Which earned him with a pocket knife thrown into his throat from across the room.

Still looking around the cafe, none of them were here. No pessimistics, no paranoids, no hyperactives. Nothing. Just the boring, dull ones with next to no lives. They werent fun, but since he was kind of desperate; he'd have to settle for one of them. No biggie, he'd get over it.

Now, to search for the most good-looking.

At the back corner, Harry spotted a fairly handsome young lad - dark hair, styled into a quiff, light brown skin, stubble, quite fit; very good looking - sitting in one of the cafe's chairs, staring up at the television, that was showing the late night news. They seemed to be hosting a story about Harry, too; about how they hadnt found any bodies for the past two months and asking questions like 'is he looking for his next victim ?' and 'where is he ?' and Harry's personal favorite: 'is Crimson finished ?'

Because no, Harry wasnt "finished". And he wasnt going to be "finished" for a very long time. Like the first said question, he's just looking for his next victim; and looking for victims is very hard and complicated work. You gotta know the plan in advance and make sure its fool proof, otherwise you'll be found out easily.

Looking at the young lad, Harry saw that he was focusing intently on the television screen, highly oblivious to the world around him. Much like Harry apparently was when he jumped ten feet into the air after being tapped on the shoulder.

Least it kept up the innocent and scared appearance, though. Two points for Harry.

Turning around quick enough to give him slight whiplash, he saw it was a waitress. A fairly pretty waitress. Ready to take his order. He wondered what time she clocked off tonight ..

And wondered when her shift ended. Hopefully sometime before two; he had to see his mummy tonight. She was cooking him dinner. And it was a few hours drive to Cheshire from London.

The waitress looked down at Harry in amusement - also trying to bite her tongue from making a snarky comment, it seemed - then flipped the fringe of her pretty black hair away from her eye and adjusted her nose piercing so it sat in perfect place in the junction on the side of her nose.

Harry was to distracted by the few piercings covering her face to acknowledge her apology, but blinked and focused on the last words of the sentence she was speaking.

"-like to order ?"

Harry hadn't even thought about food for a while, but now that it came to his mind he started to feel his stomach rumble. Looking down at his cloth covered skin and skin-covered stomach, he coughed. Harry quickly thought about the food they served here, wondering if they still had that delicious hamburger with double patties and a whole lot of bacon.

"Uh .. Have you still got that hamburger with the double patties and bacon ?" He asked shyly. He wasnt actually shy, it was just for show. The day when Harry Styles, the world class serial killer known as Crimson, was shy was the day the earth stopped spinning and started to ballroom dance.

"The Bacon Deluxe ?" The woman asked in her thick southern accent, licking her lips and pulling the blue pen away from her mouth to write on the little notepad in her hand.

"Yeah ! I'd like that, please."

She jotted it down and looked at him expectantly, silently asking if there was anything else he'd like to order.

Harry looked her up and down, contemplating where she lived, how old she was and the best way to get her in a designed grave. And judging by her current job, she lived downtown in the shittiest apartment complex money could design; she was twenty/twenty-one; and the best way would be to just go for it with the pretty little fold-away knife named Matilda that was currently sealed in his pants pocket.

He gave her a charming smile, that still feigned innocence.

"Listen, uh-" He looked at her shiny name badge that was pinned to her uniform's breast pocket. "-Jadee, there wouldn't happen to be a certain blue-eyed waitress on the dessert menu, would there ?"

She looked down at him and giggled. "You coming on to me ?"

He laughed nervously, because in technicality, yes. He was. But at the same time he wasnt. Sure, he wanted her body; but only for a number increaser.

"Yeah, I guess ... So, what do you say to a little coffee after ?"

Jadee's face lost the small momentary smile and turned very serious. She looked into his eyes and squinted a little. Her stare increased in creepiness as the seconds ticked by and she stood there: judging him.

"I'll get you. And it'll look like a bloody accident."

She turned away and stormed off to the kitchen. To say Harry was a little taken back was definitely on point. He didnt really mind, though; he'd get her later.

Turning back around, he saw that the good-looking guy from before was no longer there. He felt a little upset at that; he was gonna ask him for his number. Maybe get along; go on a few dates; get a little fun time; introduce him to the parents; brutally murder him in his sleep, that kinda thing.

It probably wouldn't have gotten anywhere besides an acquaintanceship, anyway. He was too pretty to be single. Kinda like a masculine Beyonce.

He continued searching the crowd and gained a little happiness in the sights that the crowd was starting to fill up more, to the point where it was hard for anyone to maneuver between the slots. Maybe he'd find more then one vicim this afternoon, just before he had to go to see his mother. It was his lucky day ! _Wow_ , he thought, _what a time to be alive_.

He silently laughed to himself at the pun.

It didnt take long for his burger to be shoved in front of his face then thumped on the table by the slightly angered waitress, who just glared at him after he said his 'thank you'.

His stomach growled at the food in front of his eyes, and Harry reached down to lightly pet his upset stomach; before digging into his food.

It took him aproximately seven and a half minutes for him the finish the overly large burger, and an extra three minutes for the waitress to make her way past the bodies crowding the place and take his money for the burger.

He took his time leaving the cafe, taking his sweet time looking through the crowd one last chance; searching for any one from his three preferred choices, and what to you know; still nothing.

He exited out the door and stood on the street, taking a deep breath of clean, fresh oxygen; only to cough and splutter while holding the air in place in his lungs, because lets face it; oxygen is so last year. Non-breathers are totally cool, now.

Harry once again laughed at his joke.

He walked a few strides into an alley way, that was right next to the cafe, and sat on the footpath with his back leaning against the wall.

He never got the time that Jadee the Waitress would have her shift over and done with, so he planned to just wait until he caught her leaving the shop; then follow her home and strike her neck with his shining Matilda.

He sent a quick text off to his mum, explaining that he may or may not be late for dinner. He didnt know, but to not wait up, anyway.

He leant his head back against the wall, and looked out onto the street and waited.

\----------------------------------------------

Harry had been waiting in the alley way for forty five minutes, and the waitress had yet to emerge from the vacinity.  
Waitress shifts usually didnt take over an hour, did they ? Or had Harry just been out of the eye of society for too long ? _Probably the latter._

He thought about totally skipping this murder session and heading straight to his mother's house, but he was pretty goddamn desperate right now. Two months felt like a life time to Harry; not sixty one days, fourteen hours, twenty eight minutes and - Harry looked at his watch - fifty seven seconds.

No, no. Harry certainly wasnt skipping this. He had to have it: the knife in his hand, the whimpers in his ears, the tears in their eyes, the blood splatters on his face and the look of terror on theirs .. Harry needed it. He needed it now, and he needed it badly.

Another two more minutes, and Harry found himself standing up - silently cracking his back; giving satifactory sighs as the pops in his spine echoed in his ears.

Harry subtlely poked his head around the corner of the building, eyes brightening when he caught the waitress just exiting the overly-packed cafe. He had good timing.

Harry quickly moved further down the alley way as he saw the waitress - who's name he had already forgotten - make her way towards the alley.

He ducked in behind some over stuffed bins, not exactly enjoying the smell of decaying garbage, and hid silently in the shadows. He reached into his pocket and grabbed Matilda as the waitress walked past him, eyeing her efficiently and judging when the best time would be to emerge from the trash cans and follow her.

He knew better then to kill her then and there, only an idiot would murder someone in broad daylight, let alone in the alley way of a busy London street, of which anyone would see.

She made it down to the end of the alley and quickly turned left; Harry taking this as the perfect moment to leave the wonderful smelling trash cans and follow her.

Jadee - he was quite happy when he remembered her name, that way he could creep her out a little more - didnt live that far away from her job, only a few blocks away was the shitty 5 story complex of apartments.

Even better, when Jadee entered the building, she left the door unlocked, allowing Harry fairly easy access, in which he made sure he didnt touch the door by pushing it open with his clothed hip. And to say he was ecstatic when he turned around and saw the complex had stairs and not an elevator, would be an understatement.

She didnt even look behind her as she started to climb the stairs, in an obvious rush to get back to her apartment. Harry didnt blame her, it was a Friday afternoon and she was about to be unknowingly murdered by a world-class serial killer. Anyone would've done the same thing.

He waited until she was on the third length of stairs before making his way over to the staircase and following her path.

He moved up silently, not touching the bar of the stairwell as his hands were unprotected, and made his way to Jadee's apartment.

As he looked up, he saw that the waitress was entering said apartment, and that she was on the fourth floor in apartment 15. When the door shut, he quickly sprinted up the stairs and stood in front of the door silently.

Harry listened intently, hearing the ruffle of clothes and a long sigh from inside, when he heard the sound of distant footsteps fading, he covered his hand in his coat sleeve and reached down to turn the knob.

_She really doesnt lock anything, does she ?_ , he thought as the door creeped open and he went inside, closing it behind him and locking it.

Harry looked around and saw random clothes strewn all over the place, he even saw a plain black t-shirt in a pot on the stove. Band posters covered the walls and CDs were stacked high on a large stereo system. The added on additions to the already messy apartment were the chair stools tipped over on the floor, paper thrown everywhere with little drawings on it and cat fur covering the couch with bonus cat. Plus the pots and pans that were just left about in the kitchen.

The little space was basically the end note to a nuclear bomb, dropped by some country with really bad aiming. Harry couldnt judge, though. He was fairly messy, too. Just .. maybe not so much.

He heard footsteps coming back down the hallway, and took the moment to jump behind the kitchen counter before he could be seen; almost breaking his neck by jumping over the fallen chair stool and losing his balance for a moment.

He pulled his beautiful little knife out of his pocket, refraining from kissing her, and pulled the blade out from its hiding place. Harry was excited, to say the least, he waited two months for this moment again and it was finally his to take. Much like the beating heart that was making their way over to the fridge in front of him.

He grabbed a disguarded dish cloth that was left next to him on the floor, stood up and went in for the kill.

Jadee didnt stuggle much, the shock settling in her bones and holding her in spot as Harry snuck up behind her and placed his cloth covered hand on her neck and cut off her airways, making it hard for her to scream, and shoved the knife into her neck, twisting it harshly and catching the spurting blood on the dish cloth.

She still tried to scream despite the knife in her neck, and this might have pissed Harry off a bit.

He let go of her neck and grabbed the hair on the back of her head, tugging back; then used a firm hold and twisted the blade and pulled it sideways, yanking the knife out of her neck and shoving it back in as to partially behead her.

He growled as he felt the blood splatter on his face, a pure animalistic pleasure taking control of him as he tortured the waitress.

He kept at tearing the muscles of her neck, sticking the blade deeper into her breathing pipe and cutting off all ability to regain oxygen to her organs.

Harry laughed manically as Jadee stopped struggling; tugging the knife out of her neck and pushing her to the floor, staring down at her slightly moving body.

Harry abruptly stopped laughing as he noticed that she was still alive, even if only barely. He sighed.

He really hated the twitchers.

Using the top of his worn out boots, he pushed her head to the side and moved slightly closer to her body. Only to then lift his leg up, and stomp the heel of his boot back down on her skull with as much force as to completely break the bone and have it cave in under his boot. He stared in satisfaction as he saw some of her brains had evaded the hole in her skull and got tangled in her knotted hair.

Before putting his foot back down on the floor, he grabbed the blood stained dish cloth and rubbed the blood and organ off the heel of his boot. He stared at the clump of brains in the fabric and sighed.

He had the moment with Jadee, and he took it. The pleasure she gave back to him was decorated over her body in the form of a thick red liquid and currently in his hand in sickened lilac pieces.

It was the best.

After finding cleaning gloves and putting them on, he used them to open the oven door and pull the grill trays out, placing them on top of the stove and turning around to grab the dead waitress under the arms and pull her to the confined space.

He pushed her body together, almost folding her in half, and started shoving her into the oven. After finding that her neck wouldnt flex and fit her head, he resulted to breaking her spine with the end of his elbow; shoving the it into the junction between the shoulder bones and giggling like a child when he heard the snap and crack.

He pushed her head down, then shoved her body in the oven entirely; taking a moment to sit back and admire his work.

Closing the door, he thought about turning the oven on and cooking her, just to be thorough. But he wasnt that cruel.

Oh, who was he kidding.

After turning the oven on to 150 degrees, he turned to the splattered mess of blood on the floor. There wasnt much, but looking at the time - just past three - he had to hurry.

Harry looked in the cabinet under the sink, finding the tile polish and a sponge, and got to work. Spraying plenty of the polish over the kitchen floor and side counters where the blood was, scrubbing indignantly until there was no trace of the thick blood left.

He kept the gloves on as he turned on the tap, only taking them off when the water was running as to wash his face clean of the blood and make himself presentable for dinner tonight.

He partially slipped on one of the gloves again, turning off the tap and making his way to the door and unlocking it.

He was out onto the street again in no time; shoving his hand in his coat pocket and pulling the lighter out.

He held the flame close to the fingers of the rubber and chuckled as it caught alight. He glided over to the side of the building where another alley way was and glanced at the empty bin; before throwing the burning glove into a trash can and covering it with the lid that was partially hanging off the rim.

Walking back down the street, he thought about what he had done today and felt quite proud of himself. Because finally, he had gotten his victim. And he still knew how to take care of them. He smiled to himself: he still had it.

He wondered how long it'd take for the loving smell of burning flesh to flood the apartment complex, but it didnt matter. Not really. He'd hear about it in two days, anyway.

And the entire state of England and Ireland would know Crimson never disappeared. He never stopped. He was searching.  
He was back on track now, though. Gotten progress and finished "hiding". Harry kinda of thought of what he did as a job, because he didnt do anything else for a living besides this. And he laughed about it.

"I love my job."


	2. New Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes with included Irishman.
> 
> This chapter also might scar you for life.  
> Hope you hate little girls ...
> 
> -Porcelain.xx

Harry was on his way home.

He had only been a few minutes late to dinner, everyone had only just started eating, but Anne hadn't minded. She had his dinner prepared and put on a plate; and left it in the oven for when her son arrived.

It was quite delicious, as always, but Harry had repeatedly asked for more cherry sauce on his fillet fish. Why ? He didnt know. Maybe because it was thick. And red. And liquidy. And very, very - maybe too - appealing. Like blood. Sweet, lip-licking, alluring blood. That ran through the veins of his victims via their no longer-beating hearts and out the torn skin and muscle of their fatal wounds; spilling over the cuts and onto the floor, staining the carpet like a fine tea that he wouldnt mind drinking right now ..

Shit.

Harry tried to shake the thought out of his head, albeit getting nowhere. Because yes, the cherry sauce was quite appealing and did appear to resemble blood - and tea, in a way - but that couldnt have been why he wanted more .. could it ? Like, sure, he'd thought about trying human flesh before; after tearing out their windpipes, crushing their skulls and effectively killing them, Harry would tear the three layers of flesh off the corpses and create bite sized pieces with his teeth, like one would do with a well-cooked steak that just wouldnt break under the blade.

He had never done it before, no, but he came so close to doing so when he murdered the waitress. The thought of her burning, cooked flesh and chewy veins with-holding the boiled red liquid was too intriguing for him. He decided against it, though, came the moment when he was admiring his work. He had the dinner that night - or, in technicality, an hour ago - and he couldnt face the hurt of his mother's feelings by entering her house with a full stomach.

Harry was tempted to capture a random passer-by just so he could eat their flesh and fill his darkest, hungriest desires that remained in the lowest pit of his now growling stomach. He could cut out the pathways that connected their organs, and violently remove said organs to place in some kind of jar or container. Then he could either keep them as trophies to decorate his apartment with to remind him of his glory days, or bake them to a soft yet chewy stance in his own oven and have his dinner prepared for the next two weeks.

Harry really needed to stop this; he wasnt Hannibal Lecter.

Or, he could be.

Harry decided to turn on the radio, to distract him from the thoughts of eating organs and the charcoaled flesh of the burning waitress. Music would help take his mind of things. Music always helps.

When the radio was turned on and tuned into the most well-known station, however, no music was playing. At first Harry thought he tuned into a current commercial break, due to the talking voices and urgency they spoke in, until he heard the breaking news being reported that Crimson had striked again and that this time, he had decided to display his new victim as an appetiser instead of just dumping them in some unknown, un-inhabited useless house and/or piece of land, if not their own apartment or a trash can.

Well, fuck.

One just could not rely on society for anything these days, really. What. A. Goddamn. Shame.

Harry was listening intently to the radio show reporter; describing how they had found the body in an over-heated oven, the body fried to a crisp with smoke escaping from the cracks in the glass that were caused from the door being shut with just a little less force then that used to create the large hole in the side of the corpse's skull. The news reporter wouldnt go into too much detail, not really. Despite being just past eleven o'clock, some middle school kids might still be awake, the stubborn little shits ... Or people were listening to a little radio before going to sleep and might've had nightmares at the images the reporter could've recited.

Although, in a quick non-subtle moment change, the reporter did mention that the first officer that entered the smoke-filled apartment was attacked by a ginger kitten; the small creature jumping from no where and clinging to his face, while biting his nose with as much force as to give him a nose bleed.

Harry laughed; he loved the vicious animals. They were amusing when you were attempting to pin them into place and strangle them before the dissection took order, since more often then not the fuckers refused to eat that rat poison you mixed in their food. The struggle they usually put up, and the snarls and bites they delivered were the best when you were a homicidal maniac. You only wished humans would put up as much of a mere struggle instead of begging and/or giving in directly.

To be honest, Harry just wanted a struggler.

\------------------------------------------------------

"Niall, I gotta ask you a question."

Harry had just walked through the door of the warehouse his best mate lived in. Not lived, really, it was more like a hide out. But it had all the necessities needed to have it feel like a home. A little built-in kitchen in one corner, with a refrigerator and cabinets and a stove and sink - Harry may or may not have stared at the stove and laughed to himself - a couch and large screen television was located in the middle and a bed was pulled off to the side with clothes strewn around everywhere. Not to mention the guitar that was carefully laid out on the bed, which was surrounded by pillows to endure its safety.

Harry sometimes ribbed Niall about the way he treated his guitar. That, and having no bathroom, but there was a river just a little way down the road, and guys were known to pee on trees, anyway.

"Sure, mate. What's up ?"

Harry walked over to a lazy Niall, who was laying out on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand and bag of chips on his chest, watching the football. The Irish lad gave a quick shout at the t.v. before flipping off the referee and swearing to himself, before turning his head to focus on Harry.

"Do you ever not flip off the referee ?" Harry drawled out. "You know he cant see you, right ?"

Niall shrugged and sat up, clearing a spot on the couch for Harry to sit. "Doesnt matter if he cant see me. I once threw a beer can at the telly and the guy staggered back and almost fell on his arse. He feels me."

Harry laughed as Niall took a swig of his beer, because of course Niall would say the referee felt him. No one is exactly shy about wanting to "feel" Niall, anyway. He was just lovable.

"What did you need to ask, anyway ?"

Harry turned to him, resting his back on the arm of the couch. Only to have an eyebrow raise from Niall as Harry's new position was apparently quite intriguing.

"Do you ever, like, want to try and eat something that sounds totally disgusting and probably is in the minds of almost everyone, but its really appealing towards you and you just dont know what to do because you're not like that ?"

Niall stared at him, a chip half raised to his open mouth. He blinked at Harry a few times before slowly putting his arm down and dropping the chip back into the bag. He cleared his throat and leaned close to Harry, staring up at him confusedly before he asked, "is this about the French ?"

Harry laughed and clutched at his chest, only to later be banging a fist to his chest like King Kong from choking on his own saliva. He coughed and spluttered as Niall stared at him in amusement, looking like he was trying himself not to break into hysterics from his mate's obvious respiratorial discomfort, the brilliant shade of pink covering Niall entire face was a definite give away.

After a few minutes of cackling Niall, choking Harry and breathing issues, they had finally settled down to a comfortable silence again. Niall was still wondering if Harry was talking about the French, though.

"Were you talking about the French before ?"

Harry shook his head. "No, something else. Why'd you think that, anyway ?"

"It just came to me ... Like, they eat snails and frog legs and stews made out of water rodents and its very disgusting, really."

"Its a delicacy ! Every country has their weird food traits."

Harry heard Niall's stomach growling loudly despite being over a meter away from the Irish lad. Niall rubbed his tummy, then looked up at Harry as if silently pleading to go out and have lunch or something. Harry didnt get to answer before Niall was talking again.

"What was the something else ?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. He didnt even know why he brought it up, honestly. Apparently he forgot it'd mean actually thinking about it in order to form his desires into words, not to mention being judged by the world's best food processor. If Niall wasnt willing to try snails or something, then he certainly wasnt going to take lightly to Harry wanting to fulfill his cannibal wants.

"I ... Its hard to explain, really."

Niall stared directly at Harry, willing the younger boy to go on. Harry sighed again.

"Okay, so, I assume you heard about my new victim last night, yeah ?" Niall nodded.

"Yeah, congrats for getting back on track, man. I was waiting for you to get out of that two month slump. Kinda depressing, in a sick, twisted way- Oh, come on !"

Niall had turned back to the television while he was talking and once again, yelled at the referee for making the worst call in the history of football. Apparently it wasnt a foul shot, and Niall's inner crazed Irishman came roaring to the surface as he threw numerous beer cans at the t.v. and spoke of 'killing the bastard'.

Harry just stared at a thrashing and cursing Niall until the commercial break came back on, of which Niall silently turned back to the British boy and nodded for him to continue.

He shook his head. "Anyway ... I had followed her back to her apartment and snuck in and everything, then I hid behind the kitchen counter and waited for her to appear in front of me and when she did, she obviously didnt see me, and I jumped out from behind her and shoved Matilda into her neck and halfway beheaded her. Then after I crushed her skull, I shoved her into the oven and put it on 150 degrees, so she'd be a roast waitress."

Harry laughed at his little joke while Niall just stared at him, impatience slightly evident on his features. He never found Harry funny ..

"So, uh, when I was shoving her in the oven and putting it on, I was kinda thinking about .. something really disgusting and creepy. In every possible way." Niall seemed to understand what Harry was getting at, while trying to stop himself from laughing and getting absolutely no where.

Harry glared at him. "I wanted to eat her."

Niall stopped laughing. He stared at Harry with up turned eyebrows and an expression that showed he was quite interested and surprised in what Harry had just said. The younger boy was wondering what Niall was gonna say to mock him. _Probably going to refer back to our other conversation and ask if Im French_ , Harry thought. But what Niall had said next was so not what the younger expected.

"Alright. Lets do it."

Niall had stood up and stared cracking his back, the pops and cracks echoing around the warehouse and bouncing off the walls.

Harry sat there staring into space and trying to understand what his best mate had just said, while said best mate walked over to where his bed lay and took off his shirt to exchange it for a more clean one, and slipped on his shoes. He grabbed his snapback and sunglasses before walking back over to Harry, tapping him on the shoulder and pulling him out of is reverie.

"You ready, mate ?"

Harry jumped from his train of thoughts and landed back in reality. He stood up and followed Niall to his front door, sliding out and watching as the Irish lad locked it up and placed the key in his pocket.

"You really want to help me kill someone and grab their organs, just so we can have a feast tonight ?"

Harry unlocked the car and watched from the driver's seat as Niall climbed into the passenger side and started nodding enthusiastically.

"I'll be honest with you, lad, I've always wanted to try this. Humans, I mean. It sounds very appetizing, you know ? I bet their skin and muscle is soft and sweet and their organs are just alive and full of flavor and their blood could be used as gravy or something. It'd be great !"

Harry stared at him and laughed, starting the car up. "This coming from a man who refuses to eat snails."

Niall cringed. "We used to eat that stuff as babies, man. We're gonna get the big boy's food, now."

"Just keep getting higher up in the food chain, thats what we do." They high-fived.

\----------------------------------------------

"This brings war flashbacks."

Harry and Niall were currently seated on a damp park bench, pigging out on their food from Starbucks. Kids were laughing and squealing all around them, while adults tried to control their tempers for their kids in front of other parents. No wonder grey hair was common amongst the younger generation of parents.

Harry turned to Niall and looked at him confused. Niall used a lot of metaphors.

Catching Harry's unsteady glance, the Irish lad swallowed his portion of food before talking again. "I watched this movie about two fourteen-year-old girls, okay, and-" Niall was cut off by the look he received from the British boy. The one that said 'oh, really, now ?'

Harry gained an elbow in the ribs in response and almost spat out the mouthful of sandwich he had before Niall continued talking. "Not like that, you numb nut. They were best friends and one of them was a total party freak and a druggie and a slut and the other was just a normal daddy's girl who didnt do any of that. So, one of the girls - the slutty one - was talking to this guy online and they arranged to meet up and when they did, he wasnt who he said he was. He was this old guy who ended up abducting her and taking her back to some closed in underground cave or something and he used her for sex kinks and tortured her and shit and then he found her friend and abducted her, too and he raped her and took her virginity and he tortured her, too and the slutty girl was already dead in a barrel and he put the other girl in there with her best friend and then he buried them in the forest and yeah."

Niall sat back, looking pleased with himself and sipped his drink, only looking over to Harry when he hadn't said anything a minute after Niall finished talking. The Irish lad looked at him expectantly. "What ?"

"How does that give you war flashbacks !?" Harry sounded a little frantic by the sound of his voice cracking in the middle of the question. Niall just stared at him wide eyed.

Then he shrugged. "Just the abduction part. And the killing part. 'Twas a good movie."

Harry continued to stare at Niall like he'd never seen him before. His sandwich completely forgotten in his hands as he tried to process just what the fuck this kid was even saying. "You think we're going to abduct one of these kids and use them as sex kinks ?"

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a few parents who were walking past quickly push their kids along as habit of being scared. No doubt they heard.

Niall shook his head. "No, no. Definitely not, mate. Although .. apparently people that get fucked in their lower holes bleed when they lose their virginities. So, if we dont get enough blood from this k-"

"Niall !" He stared at Harry. "Just shut up. You're not a pope, we're not doing that."

The Irish lad nodded and started eating again, and Harry silently thanked the God's that he was occupying his mouth via food and not by spouting stupid thoughts and decisions.

Irony.

They had decided to go for something small, first. Hence: the small child. They werent entirely sure if they were gonna like any of it, after all. So, to be on the safe and non-wasteful side, something human with small organs will suit perfectly. And if they do happen to enjoy the 'stuffing', they'll get a whole lot more, later.

It'd be like Christmas came early.

Niall was now finishing off Harry's half-eaten sandwich, him finishing his and Harry forgetting about the bread that was in his hands, while Harry looked around for their little bite. They understood it wasnt guaranteed to find anyone today, but they still searched. They needed an unwatched kid, one that didnt have some over bearing parents. Or they could get twins .. One each and small portions unneeded.

Though, creating torment of a twin growing up without their partner-in-crime seemed so much more fun.

Harry turned around, looking amongst the trees and buildings behind them. Looking in there, though, Harry saw two little legs standing up and a little head poking around the trunk of the tree, facing away from them and looking towards a woman who pretended to not know - or actually didnt by how heard she seemed to be looking - where the kid was. Oh, yes.

Harry had found her.

He elbowed Niall in the ribs, getting an annoyed mumble and a glare from the Irish lad. Niall turned around and looked behind them, searching into the distance to see what Harry could see.

Niall was quite forgetful at times, and didnt fully comprehend just why his best friend was staring at a little girl so intently like he wanted to eat her, until he remembered that he did and ended up also staring at the small child hungrily.

"How do we get her ?" Niall asked.

Harry contemplated the multiple choices they had; and there was a lot of them. Kids that young were positively stupid, and sometimes that stupidity stuck wit them through out their lives. They could lure her over, or just run and grab her, or play tea parties with the thing, or offer to get her a toy, or ..

So many choices, there were. But they had to be considerate of the on lookers around them. They had started getting more scared and suspicious around Crimson's fifteenth body. And never a moment before. Go figure.

Harry looked over to Niall, an amused expression on his features. "We dont particularly have a big, white van but we do have candy."

For once, Niall actually laughed at one of his mate's jokes; the British boy taking pride in being able to make the Irish lad break into hysterical laughter, then coughing fits. Harry laughed, too; because his jokes really are funny. Just .. no one really agrees with that.

Niall coughed and composed himself, again. The both of them going back to focus on the little girl that was giggling and staying hidden away from her frantically searching mother. Niall spoke to Harry without taking his eyes off her.

"You or me ?"

Harry shrugged. "Whoever grabs her, doesnt cut up the body. We said that."

"How about; I start up the car, you grab the kid, we share the scalpel, we share the cooking experience, and I do the dishes."  
Harry thought about Niall's offering. Sounded good. Harry hated the dishes anyway. The floaties in the sink always urked him. Dishes were urksome.

"Deal."

Niall set off down the path to start the car, wishing Harry 'Luck o' the Irish' as it was the best luck you could get, apparently. Niall would start the vehicle as soon as Harry came into eyesight, and would throw the door open in case of a quick getaway, if needed. This was gonna work fine. It always did.

Harry got up and cautiously made his way over to the little girl, acting shy and unsure while looking this way and that as to make sure no one got suspicious of him. From what he saw, no one paid him any attention; everyone usually kept to themselves in hopes of "not being next on Crimson's hit list." Smart, but unhelpful.

For them, anyway.

Harry walked up to the little girl, bending his knees as to get to her height. She looked at him confused as he looked down for a moment and stopped himself from laughing like the psychopathic maniac he is. He looked up at her innocently and giggled a manly giggle. A very manly giggle.

"Your mum left the park, she couldnt find you !" In truth, the little girl's mother was over by the swingset using frantic hand motions to talk to who Harry assumed was her husband. He had stopped playing with their son and looked just as scared and worried as the woman was, no doubt they thought she could've been abducted and killed.

He was getting there.

"Really ? They left me !?" The little girl looked frightened now, her tangled blonde hair swinging around her face as she desperately looked all around this side of the park. The swingset was near the other side, she wouldnt be able to see them through the trees, and nor they her. It was perfect.

"Yeah, there was a police man going around asking everyone if they saw you, and if they did you had to go to the station to see your mum." The little girl was a bit calmer now, maybe thinking that her mother was waiting for the kid - her mother, not a metal table and scalpel - was comforting. It had dulled the desperation in her brown eyes.

"Will you take me to her ?" She asked, and Harry looked at her, slight amusement ghosting his features as he stood up and offered his hand to her.

"C'mon, then."

She grabbed his hand and smiled up at him, and they left via a path that dipped through what looked like a rainforest: with large trees surrounding them and birds singing high with crickets making their signature annoying-as-fuck sounds. The high pitched chirp made Harry want to stick Matilda's blade in his eye and utterly corrupt his eardrums; it was horrible.

"What's your name ?" He heard her small voice say, the question dripping with wanted-reassurance and curiosity.

He looked down at her, smiling comfortingly as he lightly squeezed her small hand. "Crimson." He said, making sure not to say his actual name in case of ease droppers; even though there was no one around besides him, the girl and the hundreds of happy, cheery birds that he just wanted to strangle. He never understood how people could even stand them in the morning, let alone at all. Everyone was cranky in the morning. Birds just wouldnt do it for anyone. "What about you, love ?"

"Hi, Crimson." She giggled, bouncing happily on her small feet, no doubt excited. To know his name. She was probably at that age where she thought everyone was her friend and would play with her and adore her and love her and buy crappy plastic tea cups or something. That was the worst age a child could go through, and Harry was grateful there would be one less little shit on this earth in about forty minutes. "Im Jessica !"

Harry forced a smile on his face; willing himself to not wrap his large hands around her little throat and choke the happiness out of her. A child's happiness was overrated. The only time he was truly happy as a child was that time when he was fifteen and found out he could actually cut a hole into someones abdomen, place the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner into said hole, and suck out their organs while they screeched at the pain evolved from the pulling of the veins and connections. It was a beautiful process, really. When their torso was dead flat and the emptiness inside was a silent scream that filled the room, Harry thought that they could look like a model.

He laughed pleasantly at the memory. He was twenty now, five years on and that was still the best thing he did as a kid. Maybe ever.

Besides this, this was gonna be good.

He saw the car up front, now. It was on a deserted street that no one ever came near, ever since they found one of the bodies hanging from the lap post that was located in the middle of the street; Harry had broken all of the guys bones, then hung him up like a decoration as to fulfill the 'ragdoll' look his bones had brought on. Niall was sitting in the front seat, staring at them through the side window patiently. Harry rushed a bit more, hearing Niall start up the car and watched as he reached into the backseat and threw the door open.

Harry got there and quickly pushed her into the car, ordering her to lay on the floor in a demanding tone of voice; ignoring her questions of "why ?" and "what are you doing ?"

He slid into the passenger seat, telling Niall to move it after he quickly closed the door.

"So, how'd it go, mate ? What you say ?"

Harry twisted slightly in his seat as to look at Niall better, the Irish lad focusing on the road-going-nowhere in front of him. They decided to go to the abandoned farmer's house they had found two years ago, where they had commited many other murders and destroyed lives. Sometimes Harry wondered how no one had found out about Niall's dead bodies, they should know that the missing persons unit were basically all Niall's corpses and they were buried in the deepest, darkest parts of the tree land that surrounded London. Then again they were still apparently missing. Or some people thought of them as missing, others assumed they were also part of Crimson's blood crop.

Either way, they were dead.

"It went fine. She believed me when I said I'd take her to her mother; her parents never saw her disappear; we talked, we walked; and we're having take out tonight." Harry laughed manically at the 'take out' part. It was quite literal.

Jessica had stopped asking questions now, and fear slowly clouded her small features as the realization that she wasnt going to see her mother started dawning on her.

Niall laughed at the look she gave, obviously finding how scared she was as the funniest thing in the world. Harry had the heart to agree with him. And the hearts of another twenty-three people he killed. They all sat in jars in the bookshelf of his apartment. They made it feel like home.

"Wonder what she'll taste like .." Niall said. He was looking up at the sky, now, not really paying attention to what he was saying. He was still focusing on the road, but his eyes were switching between what was above and below them. "Think its gonna storm. The place has a solid roof, right ?"

Harry joined Niall in looking up at the sky. And sure enough, it was a dark, angry grey. You could just hear the thunder of an on-coming storm that was most likely hitting the next small town. "Yeah," he said, "we should be fine. Might not hit for a while."

Niall accelerated, attempting to get to the farm house quicker and succeeding.

Harry climbed out the car and made his way to the shelter. Its grey paint dull and peeling off and rickety frame just slightly leaning to the side. It was small, yes, but it was good enough. About three miles into nowhere and surrounded by forestation. 

Perfect.

Harry opened the door with his foot, turning around and moving out the way as Niall came through the door carrying the struggling Jessica, ignoring her screams and the tears that fell onto his neck as he threw her on the metal table in the middle of the house. Harry snuck a quick look outside while Niall tied her down; the storm was close now. He saw the lightening wasnt far off and the thunder was close.

Closing the door, Harry grabbed a butchers apron, that hung off the wall near the entrance to the kitchen. He walked over to Niall, grabbing the medical tool kit that was on the metal table and bringing it in front of him. He watched as Niall looked up at him in questioning as whether to gag her mouth shut or not.

Harry shook his head; they both wanted to hear her little screams of pain as her skin was torn apart and her organs cut out in full conscious. Neither could deny it, really.

Niall lifted her head and tied a bandage around her eyes as Harry removed the meat scissors and scalpel from the kit. He looked towards the Irish lad and only then noticed that Niall had lit a small candle and placed it near the top of Jessica's head. He also noticed the large pentagram that was drawn on the table in a maroon color.

"Satanic rituals again, Niall ?"

He laughed lightly, cracking his knuckles then putting his hands together in a prayer notion, bending his head down and closing his eyes tightly. "I just hope he enjoys her soul as much as we enjoy her organs."

Niall then began to chant in an unknown tongue, reciting the cursed words with such ease and confidence that Harry knew Niall had been practicing, lately. The Irish lad always did the rituals before murdering his own, something about giving a soul, taking a life. Accurate ? Yes. Understandable ? Questioned. But Niall hadn't even thought of taking a life for over three months. He wasnt as bold about murder as Harry was, but he still did it. Harry just hoped this was the start of something beautiful, and that he'd tag along more often.

Jessica was silent the whole reciting, staring at Niall with such scared features that Harry had to bite his tongue to stop from barking out a laugh. He was cruel ..

Harry grabbed the scalpel and lifted up the skirt of Jessica's pretty white dress, exposing both her lower half and her stomach. He placed the cold, glistening blade against her abdomen and watched as she shuddered and gave a small cry; the tears starting to stream down her face again and her little whimpers filling the house.

Once Niall had finished his ritual, he took the blindfold off the small child and looked up at Harry, telling him to go on.  
Niall chuckled as Jessica started screaming, her little voice expanding in the open air, but succumbing to the thunder that roared around them. Harry's manic laugh joined the many glorious sounds that happened at once.

Lightening flashed through the window and bounced of Harry's features, showing off the shining blade lifted high in the air and his wide, crazed eyes - that went perfectly with the manic smile etched onto his face, showing all his teeth.

Her screams increased, the lightening flashed, the thunder roared and their laughs doubled as the blade slashed the skin under her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is wondering what the movie was that Niall was talking about at the park, its a movie called "Megan Is Missing". Its actually really good. I quite enjoyed it.
> 
> AND THANK YOU TO MY AMAZING JADEE. SHE HELPED ME WRITE THIS CHAPTER AND WE HAD A GOOD HOUR CONVERSATION ABOUT THIS STORY. KUDOS TO HER. I EVOL U SO MUCH.


	3. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry for the long wait, guys. Like, the day after I posted chapter 2, I started this one and I wrote two thousand words but then my comPUTER DECIDED TO NOT SAVE IT. SO I HAD TO WRITE IT AGAIN. And then that saved, but when I continued it the next day and saved it after that, my continuation didnt save. So, basically, there has been //a lot// of rewriting and spazz attacks and swearing and threats to kill bitches, so.
> 
> And also, I was gonna upload it on Louis' birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HIM, BY THE WAY. SAID THAT FIFTY TIMES BUT I DONT CARE) but I was too busy balling my eyes out because Louis' twenty two and I just ..
> 
> And also, CHRISTMAS. Now, I dont particularly celebrate Christmas, but I do celebrate something else on the same day so I was pretty caught up in preparation and that.
> 
> Anyway, LOUIS. Is finally here ! Kind of .. Its for those who have been asking. I also feel like my chapters are getting worse each time, but, I dunno.
> 
> Happy reading ! Dont forget to comment and kudos and what the fuck not.  
> -Porcelain.xx

Her red liquid erupted from her body like fireworks from a cannon.

The second the blade came into contact with Jessica's flesh, the blood oozed out of her and started to surround her little body; making Niall go into the un-used kitchen and grab a bowl and cake server. He placed the bowl in the crook of her hip, then used the cake server to scrape the blood into the bowl: dragging it across her skin and making it drip into the ceramic.

Jessica's tears and screams increased as Harry used fatal pressure to divide the muscle beneath the scalpel. He dragged the blade from her left hip to her right, staring hungrily at the blood that came into view and watched intently as Niall dragged it into the half-full bowl. The Irish lad would have to get another one, soon.

Once the cut was formed, Harry used his bare hands to separate the flesh lines; digging his short nails into the wound and pulling the skin and muscle apart with aggressive force. He tore more skin in the process, creating a wide enough entrance to be able to peek inside Jessica's small body and stare manically at her slowly moving organs. It was dark inside her, but you could still see the living human puzzle pieces that created the living human itself.

Harry stuck his blood-covered fingers inside her abdomen, feeling the organs that were rapidly increasing in movement beneath his finger tips move in such nobility that he was envious. He didnt know if his organs moved like that, or anyone elses or if it was just hers. He wanted to see, though. Maybe Harry's next assignment would be to become a mad scientist and preform operations on himself.

Brilliant.

He retracted his fingers and reached for the meat scissors, snipping the air a few times as to get the gist of them, and lifted the upper flesh of Jessica's skin; slotting the scissors into place with a blade on either side of her tissue. With needed pressure, he pushed the blades together, grunting as they slowly tore the muscle apart and expanded her inner torso to the flashes of lightening that shone through the dirty windows. Niall's hand was at rapid work, repeatedly reaching forward and dragging the alluring red liquid back into the almost over-filling bowl. Harry tried to focus on his works of skin separation, but he couldnt help staring -and licking his lips - at the thick blood within the small ceramic.

Niall looked down to where Harry was looking and saw the bowl was about to over fill, which caused him to run back into the kitchen and grab another one, placing it in the same spot and using the same process after moving the other bowl onto the wooden coffee table located near the operational metal one.

Harry should learn to focus more. Jessica's struggles increased despite having her skin opened up for the boys to see. Harry wasnt sure how - there was a pair of scissors dividing her torso into two separate portions ! - but she really was thrashing about in her leather binders and her tears were spilling out and leaking into her blonde hair.

Harry reached his other hand out and placed it on her neck, holding her down in place and taking the breath away from her little body. Harry had that kind of effect on people.

Finally, the tip of the scissors blades were scratching against the middle of the little girls small ribcage. Harry tore the scissors from the skin and once again grabbed the scalpel, cutting a deep line across her ribcage; using the same amount of force as before. Niall's hands were still quick at work as Harry dug his bare fingers into her inner core.

With tremendous control, he slowly pulled the flabs of skin and muscle apart; reminding him of opening beautiful french doors to discover once of the most glorious and coziest rooms to ever exist. It was very much like that, in a way.

Her organs ranged from a light pink to a maroon red, all of them covered in slightly clotted blood and moving with frequent pace. He longed to stare at Jessica's frantically beating heart, but he wouldnt be able to do so until he broke the bones and removed the organs that blocked his path. Getting to a girls heart was never easy.

He reached out and once again dragged the pads of his fingers over the moving organs, restraining himself from wrapping the digits around the little girl's stomach and squeezing the acid out in spurts.

Another hand joined his and he looked up to see Niall doing the same as Harry. Niall was biting his lip and also looked to be fighting the temptation to bend down and start gnawing at the small pieces. But his anticipations were more obvious then the British boy's.

Harry slowly and carefully - weirdly enough - slided his fingers under the bottom of Jessica's liver; pulling it out of place a bit and staring at her partially covered lungs when she screamed again. He wasnt sure whether to grab the scalpel or the meat scissors, but then decided to pick the latter. He followed up the liver to the ligament that connected her liver to her stomach; cutting the cords slowly as to savor every snip and sound that occurred during the process.

Once the liver was fully detached, he carefully slipped his hands underneath and lifted it up into the air; blooding dipping down the organ and back into Jessica's small, open body. He stared at it in fascination and hunger, no longer fighting temptation as he brought it closer to his face and darted his tongue out to lick a long, fat strip across the liver. Bringing in the taste of blood and liver to settle on his tastebuds.

Niall looked at him in questioning, wondering whether it tasted as good as it looked. Harry slightly shook his head.  
"Blood is good. But it needs to be cooked."

Niall laughed heartfully, before running into the kitchen again and grabbing a plate, this time. Holding it out in front of the British boy and watched intriguingly as he placed the liver in the center of the of the plastic dish. He looked at Harry again. "Get her intestines, I want them."

"Your wish is my command, ol' chap."

Harry got to work right away; lining his fingers against the connected ligaments and cutting them, detaching the small intestine from the pancreas and slowly pulling it out like a magician tugging one long scarf out of his sleeve. He placed it to side of Jessica's body and slowly started to also pull out the large intestine; not bothering to disconnect the small from the large. He cut the large intestine out a few centimeters before it hit the anal canal and engulfed the end in his large hand; ignoring the blood seeping into his hand from the dissected hole and oozing out between his fingers. He grabbed the end of the smaller intestine and made sure it was in balance firmly, before turning around and showing Niall, who stood there with his jaw dropped and eyes bulging.

Niall slowly walked over to Harry, never taking his blue eyes off the intestines. Setting the plate on the metal table near the dying girl's un-moving legs, he slowly reached his hands forward and delicately grabbed the meter-long organ; handling it with as much care as a doctor with a newborn baby. Niall even looked at the organ with the same loving expression as he carefully bundled it up and held it close to his chest. Harry thought Niall was about to kiss it by the way he was cooing at it.

Which, he did.

Harry raised an eyebrow as Niall's lips planted a firm kiss on top of the larger length of the organ; giggling when the organ moved a little to spurt more blood from the smaller hole. Harry couldnt judge the Irish lad, though. He only just licked a liver thirty minutes ago.

"Niall .. I thought you were going to eat it, not treat it like your first born kid."

Niall didnt even peak a glance at the British boys; keeping his eyes focused down on the bundle of human anatomy nestled in the crook of his arm and grinning brightly. He slowly shook his head as he cooed and spoke in a slightly high voice. "I've got lots of things planned for this little guy." He played with the end of the small intestine. "He's gonna grow up to become a fashion designer."

Harry never felt more confused in his life. He was a little worried, sure. But he's killed almost 300 people, over 150 animals, he's burnt corpses, crushed skulls, tortured their lives, stalked them, chased them, flirted and murdered them, and he just dissected the organs of a little girl as well as licked her liver. Seriously, what the fuck was he worried about Niall for ?

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw Niall hold the intestines at arms length and started skipping around the room with them.

Harry looked down and shook his head. "He's all yours, too." He muttered.

Niall was still singing and skipping and joyously laughing with the intestines, moving about like a kid who just got what they always wanted for Christmas. He stopped abruptly and bent down, laughing so hard you couldnt actually hear him, and continued to hold the organ in his hands as he rested his knuckles on his knees.

He stood up after he contained himself, and then wrapped the intestines around his neck. Showing them off like a scarf and doing a pose. "Newest in fashion." Niall commentated. "Niall James Horan wearing the studious, broad and gorgeous seeping-blood intestines ! New to Louis Vuitton. In sale all stores on the sixth of June, 2066." Niall twirled and made another pose before batting his eyelashes at Harry.

The British boy couldnt help but clap and wolf-whistle as Niall strutted up and down the hallway, making to show off all angles, while promoting the glorious intestine-scarf dangling from his pale neck.

Niall and Harry both burst into laughter, clutching their sides and doubling over in fits that left them with no oxygen. Spluttering of coughing for breaths as they attempted to reenact Niall's idiotic runway walking; Harry walkingwith a hand on his hip and one held out like a teapot, walking around like he was trying to stop himself from peeing - and maybe he was, you never know - which lead to Niall falling on the floor and curling into a vibrating ball of giggle fits.

Harry was attempting to contain himself when he heard a loud bang and a large gush of wind break into the house. They both stood shut up as Niall got up and ran over to Jessica's body and Harry ran to see what happened to the door.

 

Harry got into the hallway and was automatically met by a wild rush of stormy air, and two boys on the floor trying to breathe and stand up but both getting nowhere. Harry glared at them, though they couldnt see it.

"Havent you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door ?!"

Harry stepped over their bodies and slammed the door shut with a little force, cutting out the wind flow entirely. He glared at the wood for a few minutes; daring it to move - of which it didnt - before turning back around and focusing on the two boys on the dirty wooden floor, crossing his arms for that effective, angry look that always got his victims to cry.

The brown haired boy looked up at Harry in confusion and slight fear; probably wondering why there was someone else in this ratty old house. Harry didnt blame him; it was a piece of shit, basically.

"Who are you ?"

Harry once again glared at the brown-haired boy, fighting all want to just kick him in the gut because who even asks a question like that ? Everyone should know who Harry Styles was !

Oh. Wait.

"I could say the same thing."

The other boy - raven haired, who also looked vaguely familiar - helped to lift the brown-haired boy to his feet, both of them standing up as the raven-haired boy dusted himself off and the brown-haired one stared at Harry.

"Im Liam." He said, offering his hand to shake before awkwardly retreating it in shock as he noticed the dry blood decorating Harry's own hands. Liam tried not to focus on that, attempting to tear his eyes away from the large hands and focus back on Harry's face; and that eventually happened with a lot of force and self control for Liam. He then nodded to the raven-haired boy. "This is Zayn."

Harry stared at Zayn, the resemblance was known to some aspect of his mind. He just knew he had seen this guy before. The model-like beauty, the cheekbones that could cut glass, the quiffed dark hair with matching-but-lighter skin ...

"The cafe !" Harry shouted, pointing at Zayn with a big smile on his face and worrying the dark-haired boy a little. "You're the guy from the cafe ! I knew I'd seen you before. I could never forget a model's face."

Zayn's eyes darted from Harry's grinning face, to his blood-covered finger that was point right at him. He honestly didnt know what to do, right now. "Uh .." He looked at Liam who nervously shrugged, then back to Harry. "Hello ?" Zayn tried to make it come out like a statement.

"Hello ! Its nice to meet you." Harry stuck his hand out straight in offering for a handshake and Zayn meekly reached forward so their hands could officially meet; forgetting every aspect of his mind that was screaming at him "dont".

They firmly shook hands before pulling back, Harry smiling at Zayn sweetly.

"So, what are you two lads doing here ?"

Liam and Zayn both looked at eachother and individually shrugged. "We were on our way back to London," Liam said, "and the storm hit really bad. We couldnt see anything and our car was almost blown off the road ! There was nothing to take cover in for miles, so when we saw this place he bolted for it."

Liam looked a little more worried now, and Harry didnt blame him. When a guy with blood on his hands screams Panic! At the Disco lyrics at you, before slamming the door, glaring at you and totally fangirling over your friend, you should be fucking worried.

"We didnt know anyone lived here. We just wanted shelter."

Zayn nodded. "We're sorry for barging in. Literally."

Harry studied them for a moment, bloodied fingers slowly scraping his chin as his eyes wondered over their masculine but boyish features. He contemplated whether they seemed 'okay' enough to keep alive. "We dont live here." Harry said after a moment. "We needed shelter, too. What a small world."

Liam nervously laughed, trying to lighten the air a bit. It was pretty stuffy and awkward and the actual house itself smelt awful. He really didnt want to know why, he was afraid it had something to do with the dried blood on this guys massive hands.

"We ?" Zayn asked.

Liam was pulled out of his thoughts as he start at the tall guy in front of him, who was subconsciously nodding and humming his answer. "We." He said. "Me and Niall. Who's just cleaning up in the living room."

"Uh .." Liam said, gaining the attention of the two boys. "What's your name ?"

Harry thought he mentioned it ... Maybe not, though. "Harry." He said, just as Niall rounded the corner and gave the British boy the thumbs up. Harry nodded towards him. "Niall."

Liam and Zayn both turned around, each of their brown gazes meeting the Irish lad's cool blue stare. Niall leant his shoulder along the wall and smiled at them a full-toothed grin. They both visually relaxed when they saw the wide smile drawn onto the Irish boy's face. He waved. "Hey mates ! How hectic is it out there ?"

Zayn casually laughed at the boy's infectious happiness. "Pretty wild. Anyone would be crazy to be out in that weather. Luckily we found this place."

Harry noticed that Zayn had a thick Yorkshire accent. He wasnt sure which part exactly, but it was there, and it suited his dark voice quite well.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Liam suck in a breath and slowly sigh, hanging his head down. Worried, Harry thought. And sad.

Zayn turned to him and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly as to reassure him. "Whats wrong, Li ?"  
Liam looked up at him, forgetting about the other two in the room as his eyes met Zayn's brown ones. "Im scared. About Louis. He's out there, Zayn."

The dark-haired boy sighed and cupped Liam's cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb along Liam's cheek bone. Harry looked over to Niall with his eyebrows raised. "He'll be fine, Li." Zayn said. "He knows how to handle that type of weather."

Zayn and Liam stared into eachother eyes for a few minutes longer, oblivious to everything but eachother. Harry coughed.  
"Who's Louis ?"

Liam blushed and moved back, staring down as his feet while Zayn scratched the back of his neck. "What ?"

Harry uncrossed his arms and pinched the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes and sighing slightly. "Who's Louis ?"

Zayn looked like he felt a little stupid in that moment and hurriedly contained himself. "He's our friend. We were supposed to meet up with him just outside of London, and I sent him a quick text saying that we were gonna pull in somewhere because of this weather. He sent one back saying he'd drive out and meet up with us but I lost signal before I could tell him not to."

Harry stared at him. "So, he could be coming here ?"

Zayn sighed and nodded, his face scrunching up like the thought pained him. "Yeah. That was an hour ago, though. He should've been around here by now. We left the car in view so he'd see it when he came close."

"We're scared the weather caused him to crash or something. But, we wouldnt know where or if it did." Liam chimed in.

"Maybe he took a different turn, then ?" Niall's thick Irish voice spoke from across the hallway, causing the three boys to turn to him. "Does he leave the border often ?"

Liam thought for a moment then shook his head. "Not really. Only around Christmas time and Easter and that. You know, festive holidays" Niall nodded. "But even when he does leave, he goes a different way. Doncaster is on a different highway to Wolverhampton, so he wouldnt really know his way coming down this road."

Niall stood straight and walked in to the kitchen, motioning for the three of them to follow along as he went through the cupboards and pulled out four un-used - Harry was exactly sure if they were clean - mugs. "See ? He could've just taken a wrong turn." Niall twisted the tap and stared as murky water flowed out; he hit it a few times and sighed in content as clean water began to run through.

Filling up the mugs he turned around and placed them on the table, nodding to Liam and Zayn to sit down.

Harry excused himself and motioned for Niall to follow him, leading the Irishman to the furthest wall in the living room and away from the door of the kitchen. He turned towards Niall and placed a hand on his shoulder. Leaning in close and whispering: "Where is she ?"

Niall pointed behind Harry to suitcase - it was quite well hidden, Harry actually thought Niall must've hidden the corpse in the wall before he saw the locked box - it was slightly over packed, due to its small size. The blood that leaked through the zipper had streaked down the sides and formed small puddles where the droplets hit the floor. Harry wondered if the organs were back in their rightful places within the little girls torso.

"Is dinner in there ?"

Niall nodded. "The 'gravy' is, too."

Harry turned back to Niall, just as they heard deep chuckles radiating from the kitchen and echoing around the entire broken house. Harry hoped the boys in the kitchen werent talking about him and Niall. Harry hated when people did that.

Ironically.

The laughter dialed down, just as the Irishman asked, "what are we gonna do about them ?"

Harry slowly shook in head in a manner that said he didnt exactly know. He pondered. "We're just gonna have to endure them. We cant exactly kick them out, we dont even live here." Niall agreed.

Harry had thought about killing them the exact moment they came through the door, but as soon as they mentioned that they had a friend looking for them, he laid off. Sure, he could've killed their friend - Louis, Harry kept reminding himself - but that would've postponed dinner and they already had two delays sitting in the kitchen, having a good ol' time. He could've hid their car from plane sight, too, but this was the only house out for miles, and it was an obvious shelter away from the outside. So, either way, they would end up fucked over and annoyed as shit.

"So, what are we going to say to them ?" Niall asked.

"We'll pretend to care about their stupid, petty lives. Pretend we care that their friend is out there and say we'll help them if they want it; whatever."

"Alright." Niall was about to leave before asking; "we should go back in there, yeah ?"

Harry nodded. And Niall lead the way back into the kitchen, making the two boys hurriedly shut up and look innocently at them. Harry may have gotten suspicious.

"We talked, yeah ? And we decided that, if you'd like, we can go out and look for your friend Lewis or whatever. Only if you want, though. The weather is a bitch."

Zayn and Liam stared at Niall as he spoke, mixed emotions rushing over their faces; starting with paranoia and ending in relief and guilt.

"Really ? We can go out there and look for him !?" Liam sounded really pleased but scared, as he shoved his chair back and slammed his hands on the table the exact moment he stood up. He looked them both dead in the eyes, his own chocolate brown ones sparkling with hope and determination.

It was sickening, really.

"Yeah. No pressure." Harry added.

The two brown-eyed boys quickly finished their drinks and made their way over to the front door, indicting that: yes, they wanted to go out there and look for Louis. Of course they did. _Must be a three-way relationship or something_ , Harry thought.  
The British boy hit Niall as soon as the other two had gone out into the storming weather, making their way to their own car.

"What was that for !?"

Harry glared at him. "What about dinner !?"

Sudden realization hit the Irishman like a freight train as the memory of Jessica's organs and their plans flooded into his mind. He looked sheepishly at Harry. "Heh .. Whoops ?"

Harry lifted to hand up to smack his friend again but stopped short when he heard a revving car honk its horn from outside, as soon as a break in the thunderclaps appeared. _Honk if you're about to be brutally murdered._

Harry pulled a face at Niall before exitting the house and closing the door firmly; hoping that no one else was gonna come snooping around and looking for shelter and end up finding their not-yet-skinned food awaiting for them patiently in the suit case.

Harry really didnt want to leave now .. But, he had to. They had to keep up the "nice guy" appearance for Liam and Zayn without anything being suspicious. Literally, no one could trust anyone these days and barging into an abandoned house of strangers with angry minds and mysterious blood on their hands should be breaking some kind of unknown rule.

Harry climbed in the backseat with Niall, closing the door and not even bothering to put his seatbelt on as they screeched tires and swerved out of the driveway leading up to the house.

Zayn was honestly a good driver, he had speed on his side and was quite reckless to be going 115 miles per hour on a wet freeway. Harry liked it, really. Him and Zayn could be good friends.

\-------------------------------------------

The car ride had been silent, no one daring to speak any words above the roaring thunder until they saw a destroyed but familiar - to Zayn and Liam - car that had been ran off the road and into the side ditch.

Liam yelled in panic as Zayn burnt rubber and got a little off track as he hurriedly attempted to put the car into a complete stop.

Liam was the first to escape, Zayn following quickly after him as they both bolted down the steep slope and threw themselves on the drivers side door of the crashed car. Harry and Niall looked at eachother quickly and rolled their eyes, before straightening their clothes and escaping the car into the pounding rain; getting wet within seconds.

They took their sweet time walking down the slant as Liam and Zayn screamed 'Louis' through the tinted car windows. They attempted to open it the door, but it was jammed in from the roll down and obviously locked, too. Going in through the back doors of the silver prius was unquestionable as they were dented and broken and you could hardly find a spot to grab onto without cutting your hands open, and Harry wasnt going to waste his skin for some careless unknown he could give less of a damn for.

He was quite sick of their caring screams, though - it was causing him a headache; 'too-much-screaming' is a thing for psychopaths -and they were too scared to break the windows in case of hurting their friend. So, Harry had decided to do it for them.

He walked over to the car and pushed the boys out the way, before climbing on top - as it was turned on its side - and lifting his arm back; curling his hand into a fist and using just enough force to break the thick glass as soon as his knuckles came into contact with it. Liam and Zayn both screamed again as they heard the glass shatter and Harry faught the urge to rub his head and scream back at them.

He peered into the car at a broken and bloodied body, that was hanging off to the side and only being kept in place by the seatbelt and not-yet-deflated air bag. Harry reached his hand in and pushed it down, before moving said hand to place on his shoulder and shake the man inside the vehicle.

The screaming stopped and the thunder was silent. No one dared to breathe as the fate of Liam and Zayn's friend was unknown and currently in the call of Harry.

He shook Louis' body again, and he didnt reply.

Harry wasnt sure he was ever going to.


	4. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My rewrite problems werent as bad for this chapter, I just had to clear out some of my computer memory. So, yay ! Didnt have to wait so long for another chapter !
> 
> Although, I'll be honest here, I was getting a little self conscious about my beautiful story here, because on twitter everyone was complaining about this other psycho!Harry fic and all the tweets about people hating that others wrote Harry like that kinda got to me and made me worry that if this story becomes well known (I may or may not hope it does) that hate Im gonna get for it may be severe and I was starting to worry that no one will like it. But then I thought; "Hey, Im getting all these sweet comments on this story. Fuck the hate I may get."
> 
> So, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to you guys. Because you're all so sweet and endearing and really actually enjoy my story and if I could bake you all cookies and muffins and give you cuddles I would. This chapter is all for you ! (I even made it longer. EEEEEEEEEEESHK.)
> 
> And, also, my twitter is @pantielou if you would like to follow me or something, I dunno. I post updates like when Im writing my next chapter and will ask questions about what I should put in the story and ask for advice and shit. So, if you wanna participate in that, you can !
> 
> Or, if you dont want to see my other stupid tweets that involve my everyday life I can create a twitter account //just// for this story. Its up to you.
> 
> Have fun reading ! Wow, I love you guys. I really do.<3  
> -Porcelain.xx

Though he was broken and battered, Harry didnt think Louis was dead.

Sure, the man inside the car was un-moving and Harry couldnt actually see if he was breathing - since over half of Louis' body was turned away from Harry, and the only parts of his body that could be seen were half his hip, his arm and the back of his head - but a little something inside Harry said Louis was still among the living.

Unfortunately.

 _You had one job, Mother Nature_ , Harry thought. _One fucking job._

Everyone had been quiet for the past fifteen minutes; even the thunder had dulled down into nothing but a slow and almost unnoticeable rumble. The only sound that could really be heard was the muffled sobs of who Harry assumed was Zayn; he had taken the silence and slow retreat of Harry's arm from the wreckage as a sign that his friend no longer had a beating heart.

Harry reached inside the car window again and unlocked the door; slowly moving back and positioning himself on the back door of the silver Prius so that he could open the driver's side one. He placed one hand on the window frame - some of the broken glass cutting the flesh of his hand and making fresh blood slide through his fingers, not that Harry noticed - and slipped his other in a dent on the under frame of the door. He only used a little strength as it wasnt hard to rip the door off its torn hinges and throw off to the side that the others werent on. He had a clear entrance into the car now and moving up to sit on the door frame, he was surprised that Louis hadnt flown right out the windshield. The man wasnt wearing a seat belt, and had still managed to stay in his seat.

Or he was awake for a few moments and tried to get out the car before he fell into a deep unconscious slumber. Because that happened more often then Harry wanted it to.

Harry got in a good position to be able to grab the man inside the car, first grabbing his arm to pull him closer and not bothering to be gentle as he slipped an arm under Louis' torso and one under his knees. He had to give a bit of a tug on Louis' right leg as it was stuck, but after a few good pulls it was finally free - and bleeding, but Harry didnt care - and the taller boy held the small man close to his chest before turning around and jumping off the wreckage; landing perfectly on his feet and looking up to Zayn and Liam, who left no time to sprint over and start lightly shaking Louis and calling his name while asking if he was alive and okay.

It was apparent that their prayers were answered when Louis lightly shook his head and let out a soft cry before moving in closer to Harry's toned chest.

Liam was speechless as Zayn erupted in cheerful shouts and fist bumped the air, oblivious to the rest of his tears that continued to stream unknowingly down his cheeks. Liam was still frozen and Niall was making his way over; the Irishman staring down at the man with his eyebrow raised, he looked like a puppy seeing a baby for the first time and was wondering what the hell it even was. Harry had to stop himself from laughing.

Zayn made Harry put Louis down, of which he attempted to gently lay the broken man on the dripping wet grass but failed un-caringly as he heard the small thump of Louis' head hitting the earth. Liam snapped out of his reverie and held off a glare for Harry; because, after all, he did help them find Louis and got him out the car. Even though he was being a little rough ...

Everyone crowded around Louis; Zayn trying to gently shake him into consciousness while Liam looked over his body and checked for his wounds, wincing when he saw the 'gruesome' ones that involved seeing the torn inner muscles or the bones that broke through Louis' flesh and protruded into the air, making the muscled boy look like he was about to be sick. Harry once again bit back a laugh from the look of horror on Liam's face: he had seen so much better.

Niall stood back and watched in curiosity while the two boys worried and panicked over Louis, while Harry just watched in amusement. This was so stupid. This man was just another nothing in a world full of selfish walkers that slowly destroyed themselves before destroying eachother. And from what Harry could see, Louis was already destroyed. Physically, at least. Emotionally and mentally ? He didnt know. But by the way the two boys were obsessing over him, it wouldnt take long for Louis' pride and spirit to break.

See, people unknowingly ruin eachother. Even by little actions, that may seem good or nice in most eyes but betraying in others; Harry had found this out at a young age. He remembered when he had broken his leg after running through the forest near his childhood home, chasing a deer and trying to catch it for his own personal pleasure. He had tripped over a fallen branch and twisted his knee, fracturing the bone and making him pissed off with nature. He had dragged himself an entire mile back through the woods, making his current knee condition worse and getting millions of little tears in the skin on his hands and arms from twigs and little prickles that rested in the grass outside the house and depths of the forest.

He had to lie to his mother about what happened - she definitely couldnt know that her baby boy was secretly a psychopath that had been chasing a deer just to dissect it and contain its organs for later scientific-experiments - and she had been very worried and concerned that Harry wasnt actually okay. And that began the decrease of Harry's pride.

His mother had been bringing food up to him, and asking if he needed anything and if not, to call her when he did. She'd help him up when he told her not to and help him into the shower or to the bathroom and she wouldnt leave him alone when he simply tried to walk around for a bit. He understood that she was trying to be nice, but for some people, thats one of the worst things that could occur. It had made him feel useless and degraded and like his own, individual person was banished. The 'get well' cards he received did worse. He didnt want pity, he didnt want everyone saying they're sorry for the current position he's in, he didnt need to "get well". Everyone had tried to be nice and comforting but really, only destroyed him piece by piece until he was ready to kill someone - which he did - and made him a worser man to this day.

 _Everyone destroys eachother,_ he thought.

Harry was pulled out of his reverie when he heard a loud beat of thunder errupt out of the clouds and create an echoing sound around them. He looked up, and noticed the lightening flashes were back in full force and the thunder had once again returned. The raindrops didnt pelt down, though, but the clouds were ready to let them by how dark and angry they appeared.

Zayn and Liam were once again yelling a chorus of 'Louis' in a happy tone that sickened Harry entirely. They seemed so excited and fiercely happy that Harry was kind of cautious when he looked at them; only to see the boys staring down at Louis in awe, while Zayn kept his hands resting on either side of Louis' face as to keep his face looking towards them.

Harry wasnt even sure what happened to him when he heard the soft but weak voice emanating from the ground below. "Get off me."

Harry turned his head so fast he may have gotten a minor whiplash, but nothing was regretted when he saw the diamond-blue eyes of the man below looking at Zayn in annoyance. Zayn chuckled as he slowly removed his tattooed hands away from Louis' face. Louis blinked a few times, getting his gaze back into focus. He turned his head towards Harry unknowingly and opened his eyes again.

He stared at the tall boy in confusion; neither of them blinking as they silently feasted off eachothers gazes and Harry was starting to feel a strong, pulling sensation form in his chest. Louis' diamond-blue eyes quietly screamed that he was in pain, but they kept the innocence in their stare and Harry found himself becoming intrigued by the broken man. He wanted to reach forth and drag his blood-covered hand over Louis' face so slowly, so gently; take in every feature, every pore, every soft crease that made up the man in front of him. To drag his hands over Louis' body and perform the same actions until Harry knew every aspect of his soul and keep the secrets inside.

Harry wanted to break him. He wanted to destroy the man below him until he was as broken mentally as he was physically; as broken as Harry secretly was. Though, Harry felt less like a fallen one when he looked into the beautiful, shining eyes that showed so many emotions he wasnt sure what to feel. So many thoughts echoed around in Harry's mind, and he still was unable to think clearly, with those diamonds piercing his inner demon and making it crumble. Harry began to feel weak, like all his power and superiority was being drained from him every second that ticked by. Though, time had felt like it stopped.

Something was wrong with him ...

His crazed trance was erupted; every part of him coming back to reality except his mind when the blue diamonds were stolen from his emerald gaze.

"Louis, how you feeli-... ?"

Harry fazed out from the conversation, staring into the darkened horizon and questioning his entire being as to what just happened. He was so confused, so angry; he didnt understand. He had this feeling set over him, of wanting to not kill Louis. Just the thought of Louis being dead set a strong wave of protection and anger to wash over him. What was wrong with him .. ? He wanted to protect this man he'd only just made eye contact with ? He never felt any of these emotions before ... Not even when he saw his father getting beaten to death; he didnt feel anything in that moment. He just wanted to laugh, then. But the thought of anyone laughing at Louis made him start to violently shake with madness.

He didnt even know his hands were balled up into fists and aggressively moving like the rest of his body. He didnt hear his own animalistic growls that began to boil deep within his chest. He didnt see Liam and Zayn staring at him in fear or Louis being slowly moved away by them while biting his lip to hold back the excruciating pain that came from the tiniest movements of his small body.

Niall didnt waste any time in walking over to Harry and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The Irishman figured he could've been less straight-forward, though, when Harry stood up and turned around; letting out a deep, wild scream in his face as soon as their skin touched.

Niall was quick to pull his hand back from the taller boy's crazed state, but wasnt quick enough to actually retreat when Harry's hands collided with his chest and shoved him back with enough force to twist his already damaged knee and trip over Louis' legs, making him fall back onto Liam and sending them both crashing to the floor.

Harry looked up and yelled at the sky with all his energy and breath in his lungs; screaming bloody murder back at the thunderclaps that responded to his aggrieved state.

As if on cue, the rain began to send its droplets back down to the earth with no force; slightly soaking Harry in attempt to cool him down. But even the soft patter and smell of the water was not helping. All that could be seen was a burning fire in his eyes, Harry's vision obviously clouded with a harsh red tinge.

He grabbed his hair and pulled. Not hard enough to remove the thin strands, but enough to make him feel it. He growled and slowly stepped backwards, his back hitting the roof of the crashed Prius behind him. He rapidly turned around and expressed his anger on the car: moving back a bit, yelling and using most of his strength to pummel his shoulder into the car. The car squelched against its movement on the wet grass and rocked back and forth violently with the impact used. In its vulnerable state; Harry used his hands to push the car back on its four wheels, it bouncing heavily with the unexpected strength.

He turned around with wide, angered eyes; psychotically staring at those on the cold ground with fearful and surprised expressions loitering their features. He stared at them all individually, leaving Louis for last. Harry growled - but, this time, protectively - at Louis, "for you."

He ran.

\-------------------------------------------------------

He had run over twenty miles, it was two o'clock in the morning now and he left at one in the afternoon. Had to be his new record.

Harry had his back resting against the wall of a dark street. Away from the nearest shed of light from a post. No one could see him as he was quite camouflaged; with his black trench coat covering most of his body and blending into the shadow that illuminated almost every corner of the street.

He had his beautiful Matilda in his hand, her blade pulled out and the tip pressing into the pad of his finger while he held her handle and twisted subconsciously; blood slowly trickling down his finger and landing in small splats near his feet. He was still thinking, and had been for the last hour he had sat there, with his long hair covering his face and eyes down in his lap. Harry wasnt sure what came over him. One second he was looking into Louis' memorable blue eyes and the next he was sprinting down the highway with a cloud of anger in his shadow, running away from what he didnt know.

It had been drilling his head in. Harry was so confused and, admittedly, a little scared. He was never one for feelings, always thinking that they were something he wasnt born with. But as soon as his eyes met Louis', it was like his entire being shifted gears and focused solely on the broken man that was looking up at him in pain and skepticism. Harry had wanted to fix his physical wounds and make him better again, all the while breaking his spirit and destroying his inner mind.

They'd be the most perfect pair. Broken, but perfect.

Oh, what was he doing ?

Harry hit his head against the brick wall behind him. He needed to remove these thoughts from his mind. They'd start eating him alive soon enough, and he couldnt have that happen. Maybe now would be the best time for a little self-surgery to disfigure all the wires within his brain to stop those thoughts from making their way to the beginning of his problems. Harry shook his head again; he didnt have problems. Not really.

_Yes, you do._

There it was again. Vee. The voice that had been echoing inside his head for the past fifteen years and never really left him alone. The same voice that made him decide to try cannibalism and begin to murder people. It had been the beginning to his fucked-up life, and looking back he wished he really hadn't listened to that stupid fucking voice. Maybe he wouldnt be in this weirdly horrible 'feeling' situation he was currently in. Harry remembered having arguments with Vee; it had worried the shit out of everyone and scared those around him when he was in public. They thought he was just talking to himself for the hell of it sometimes, but he never just "talked" to it; the moment always ended in him screaming at the air and his mind answering him back.

He had the police called on him for that, once.

Harry tried to fight answering back, as that was basically second nature to him now, but it was just itching in the back of his mind to do it. Literally. "No, I dont."

Vee laughed, its laugh was more like nuts and bolts rattling around in a metal can then actual laughter, and Harry hated it. He threw his hands to his head and clutched tightly as he dug his fingernails into his scalp in attempt to remove the skin and dig deep into his brain.

 _Yes, you do._ It answered. _You always have._

Harry tried to ignore Vee, but you could never ignore something that reached into the deepest core of one of your main organs and dragged its way through every wire in your head until it drove you mad and killed every chance you had of getting better. Voices made you sick; and Vee had made Harry very, very sick.

"No, I dont. There's nothing wrong with me."

_Everything is wrong with you._

Harry growled, and was thankful no one was around right now. "Thats not what my list said. Now shut up."

Vee was silent for a few moments, and by the harsh pull some of the wires delivered, he could tell it was thinking. Vee was like their own person that had found its home inside Harry's skull and never wanted to leave - unfortunately - and Harry still had yet to get rid of it.

 _You have a list ?_ It spoke. _Of what ?_

Harry sighed. He had wanted this stupid bitch to leave him alone for so many goddamn years and it still had yet to happen. "My list of things that are wrong with me."

_And what's on that list ? Psychotic, well-known serial killer who's just experienced feelings for the first time and wants to run back to his mommy because he's scared of who they're directed to ? Psychotic, well-known serial killer thats brutally murdered over two hundred people and still has yet to show any evidence other then the bodies themselves ? Psychotic, well-known serial kill-_

"One: nothing wrong with me. Two: nothing wrong with me. Three: nothing wrong with me. Four: nothing wrong with me." Harry silently mumbled to himself; repeating the list that he had made three years ago, when having a different-but-similar argument with Vee. It didnt sound like a list, more like a reassurance, but he had made it into a list because it was easier then straight up saying there's something seriously wrong with him.

 _You think thats going to help ? To convince you ?_ The scraping sounded around his skull as Vee laughed again. _I am you, Harry. And nothing you say is going to convince me. You cant even understand the thought of having feelings; let alone understand and wrap your head around me. And I am your head._

Harry wanted to scream. Why wouldnt Vee leave him alone for once ? He wished he had a way to shut it up, but he couldnt exactly talk over it; as Vee had this special way about them. He could be talking, but Vee somehow had the ability to talk over Harry. Vee was literally their own person; just doomed to spend all their eternity as Harry's conscience. Harry wondered how it got in his head in the first place, he was only five when Vee first appeared and young Harry had thought some stranger was behind him, whispering into his small ear all these mean things about being a naughty boy and hurting peoples feelings. He didnt care about anyone, though. Not really. He was psychotic from a young age, after all. Vee really just appeared when he got worse. And though they seemed to be the good side of his conscience, it really wasnt. Vee drove him nuts. Literally.

"Vee. Fuck. Off. I'll bang my head against a wall and crack my skull open if I have to. You know I will; you cant exactly underestimate me." He threatened.

Vee clawed at his brain again. _I would never underestimate you. But, you can try all you want, Crimson. You will never get rid of me, no matter how serious your concussion will be._

Harry needed to kill something. He always did after a sweet, little, heart-felt conversation with Vee.

He removed his hands from his head and slowly folded Matilda up into her usual closed state, before putting her in his pocket and positioning his hands on the floor below him; lifting himself up with a small grunt as his muscles started to wake up again. He reached behind him and cracked his back a few times, the pops settling in his ears as his bones came into work. He cocked his head either side and cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders a bit; before looking down both ends of the street.

Still empty. But from what he could hear, there was an all-night club a few blocks down; the pounding music was echoing around the entire city and was just enough to get his feet to start walking and lead him in the direction the club was.

\----------------------------------------------------

Harry was waiting around the corner.

He was hiding on the side of the building, the entrance to the club in clear view . He could catch the faces of those that left the building via the shining lamp post across the street; but he only caught a glimpse, as they were drunk off their asses and couldnt bother staying still. But from those few seconds he saw their features, he could tell none of them were really that intriguing; none really seemed to scream out to him.

Then again, they'd be screaming later.

He started to get impatient after ten minutes. No one had left the club and those who did were bouncers changing their guard shifts outside; Harry figured he would have to go around and look for a clubber who was still dragging their intoxicated ass around London.

He grunted and pushed himself off the wall, swearing under his breath and he shoved his hands in his pockets and turned around; only to widen his eyes and sigh contentedly as he saw a living body slowly drag their way down the footpath while rubbing their upper arms in the cold, night air.

They werent drunk, obviously. But that just made what Harry had in mind a hell of a lot more exciting.

Once Harry had found where the club was, he had decided to find an un-used building and set his stuff up. He had almost squealed in delight when he saw the almost empty room that had actual torture toys inside it. He didnt know how they got there, but he quite liked that he didnt have to go back to his apartment just to get his supplies. He kept in mind that this may be some sort of trap, but it wasnt like the toys were just out there in the open, displayed on a silver plate held by a butler or something. Harry figured it was an un-used butcher's shop.

Harry had found the rusted hunting knife on the floor, almost completely hidden under a stack of empty boxes that crowded the room. He had also found glorious hooks hanging almost an entire meter down from the ceiling, and gym ropes on the floor. Definitely an old butcher's shop.

Harry spent two minutes looking for some type of hand coverage in the small shop and fist bumped the air when he saw medical gloves on the top shelf of a cupboard. He had then moved the boxes out of the way and cleared a large space under the hooks, laying out the ropes and hunting knife just to the side and staring back to make sure it was all in order. It was. He just needed the body.

Harry slowly moved after the man; creeping behind him and following his every step but not daring to introduce himself and alert the guy of his presence just yet. The man would probably just yell for help and run away, because thats what everyone was secretly like these days; they didnt show they were scared, but really they just wanted to wear diapers and shit themselves like when they were two.

Harry was far enough back to stay unknown to the man, but was far enough to be able to tell if the guy thought someone was following him. Luckily for Harry, he didnt appear to have a sixth sense and stayed oblivious to his last moments.

Harry moved onto the road a bit and stayed in the shadows as the man turned the corner and went in almost the exact direction Harry wanted him to. The taller boy sped up a bit, getting close to the corner and peaking around; watching as the man went towards the old butcher's shop.

As soon as the man was near the alley way that lead into the back of the store, Harry bolted on his silent feet; running up behind the man and wrapping an arm around his struggling torso, clasping his arms into his sides and throwing a hand over his mouth to stop him from screaming altogether. He didnt want that. Not yet, anyway.

Harry dragged him into the alley, kicking the back door open then shoving the man inside the store. Harry had made a cute little rope necklace beforehand that was attired especially for this occasion, too; grabbing the man's brown hair and wrapping it around his neck, tightening it so that it fit perfectly in the skin of his esophagus. He then placed his hand over the struggling mans mouth again, holding the mans head against his hip as Harry quickly tore off his plain shirt; the strips of fabric falling to the floor as Harry started to feel warm streaks of water leak onto his hand.

He grabbed the dangling bits of rope that hung from the mans neck and wrapped them around his hand, before letting go of the mans head and grabbing his hands instead. Harry pulled the mans arms back and placed his foot in the center of his spine; Harry quickly tying the rope around his hands and holding them in place.

Harry moved back to admire his work. The man was on the floor, now; on his knees with his hands tied behind his back and his head shoved onto the floor. He stood there for another minute or so, before reaching forward and grabbing the mans pants, ripping them off his pelvis and throwing them towards the door - which Harry then closed as soon as he realized it was still open - and grabbed the mans ear, pulling him towards the hanging hooks with small force as the man was still struggling.

Good.

Harry lifted the man up, grabbing his torso and pushing the guy's back against his own chest. He held him there for a moment, before slipping his arm up and grasping his jaw, squeezing the bones together to make the man open his mouth. Harry reached up and clasped a hook between his fingers; bringing it down and pushing it near the mans cheek, the metal and flesh just barely touching.

"Whats your name ?" Harry asked, placing his mouth close to the mans ear.

Harry had to strain his ears a little just to hear the mans frightened voice, and quietly praised himself for making the rope tight enough.

"Shaun."

He gave a little breathy laugh. "Well, Shaun, you're gonna be getting a piercing." He whispered. "Only this time, its not the piercing thats the decoration."

He shoved the tip of the hook into the mans cheek and kept silent as little breathless screams came from Shaun and the little spurts of blood began to trickle down his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRUE FACT: 'Vee' is a real thing and is actually the little (big) voice inside my head. The things it (their voice changes, so I cant exactly dignify whether its a girl or boy) said in the story are also some of the things it said to me. I just decided to add Vee into Harry's character because I thought it added on the creepy context and made him more interesting.
> 
> Feedback would be great, though. Holla @ me on here or twitter !


	5. Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaayyyyoooooo. Its 2014 ! Happy New Year !
> 
> Good for you guys; you made it through another year ! Unlike some of the characters in my dear fanfic ... But, Im proud.<3
> 
> Some people were asking for a twitter account dedicated to just this fanfic, too (I dont blame them. I tweet about as much stupid shit as Harry himself) .. So @HOASKOfficial is were you can find it, guys. I'll give updates and ask for advice and post pictures and mention songs that put me in the mood for this story and shit like that. Yaaaaaay.
> 
> Happy reading ! Feedback is always welcome.  
> -Porcelain.xx

Shaun was proving to be quite the decoration.

Harry stared at the man from the other end of the butchers shop, watching as he hung there by the hooks in his face like a pig by its feet; his neck caught in a rope and hands tied behind his back. Shaun’s knees were bent as to keep his feet on the floor and cause less pain for the pulling in his face. Harry had only found five hanging hooks, but that had been enough to thread through the mans face. Shaun had two hooks in the chubby flesh of his bleeding cheeks, another two threaded through his dark eyebrows and one placed in the middle of his quivering lower lip. He looked like the hanging ornament of a Christmas tree.

And to Harry, it really did feel like Christmas.

He crossed his arms and gazed at Shaun’s almost fully-naked body; his green eyes raking over the mans skin and soaking in every breathless whimper his hooked mouth produced. Harry started to feel a minor pang of guilt make its way through his chest as he watched Shaun try to keep himself upright on his aching knees.

Harry wondered what on earth the guilt was for. He was a psychopathic serial killer, for god sake ! He wasn't meant to be feeling guilty about hanging someone via the hooks in their face in preparation for torture !

Unless the guilt wasn't for the torture and was the aftermath of mere oogling at Shaun’s body. But, why would he be feeling guilt for that, exactly ?

_Is little Louis getting to you again, Harry ?_

As soon as the scratching voice sounded through his head again, Harry felt the want to scream in frustration rise to the back of his throat and try to tight its way out his mouth. He silent cursed himself for false hope and remembered that once Vee started annoying him internally, it didn't stop for at least two hours. He let out a small growl through his clenched teeth. “And here I was,” he hissed. “Thinking you’d leave me alone for a while.”

Vee’s nails-on-a-chalkboard laughter vibrated through the wires in his head, again. _Me ? Leave you alone ? Its kind of hard to do that when I'm trapped inside your murderous mind._ Harry sighed and threw his head back in annoyance. _You think I like being up here, Harry ?_

He snorted. “Don;t give me that ‘you think its bad for you ?’ speech, Vee. You love tormenting me.” He replied before mumbling. “Every single bit of it.”

_Well, I cant lie to you there._

"You can never lie to me."

Harry felt twists and sharp pulls in the back of his mind as Vee thought about it, scratching through his head and making him wince. _How ?_

He silently smiled to himself, a dark edge leaking in the smirk plastered on his face. “Its like I know.”

Harry uncrossed his arms and made his way over to the hunters knife that was left on the floor, earlier; picking it up and twisting it around in his hand as he turned towards Shaun. “Now, can you fuck off ? I'm doing something here.”

 _Oh, no. I'm staying to watch this. I have no other choice, really._ Vee said. _Remember ?_

Harry wanted to destroy an entire brick wall using only his head as he relived the irony that was him and Vee; its pure sarcasm taking a good hold on him and making him want to destroy whole cities with his bare hands. Though, since there was already a vulnerable and waiting body before his eyes, he was going to take his annoyance out on that.

He strided over to Shaun’s side, tilting his head and looking down at the frightened grey eyes that held the unshed tears of his new victim. He took pride in already being able to make the man cry, without even getting to the best part.

Harry still hadn’t lost his smirk. “Should I even bother making conversation with you, Shaun ?” He taunted, before throwing his head back and laughing manically; still holding the hunting knife tightly in his grip. “Or has the cat got your lip ?”

Tears started streaking down Shaun's cheeks, his whimpers and breathless pleads getting caught in the air; perishing in the oxygen before they could fully reach Harry's ears. Shaun moved around a bit, and Harry saw the instant regret evident on the mans features as the hooks pulled on his flesh and a little more blood streaked down his cheeks; meeting halfway with his tears and coloring the beads of water a light red.

Harry grabbed Shaun's hair; pushing the blade of the knife against his neck and ignoring the thick red liquid that streamed from his cut and traveled down his rapidly moving neck. Harry looked amusingly into Shaun's grey eyes, smiling manically at the emotions of fear and pain that showed through his pupils. Harry was quite excited about what was going to happen, next; he loved torturing people. He loved when their high pitched screaming increased while their hope faded and they became more helpless in every second that ticked by; he loved when they pleaded with him to be spared. 'I wont tell anyone !', they'd say as their fingers started to burn from the heat of the lighter that Harry held against their flesh. 'Please, just spare me ! I'll give you anything !'

The first time Harry heard that plead, he had thought about what they'd offer him and wasn't exactly afraid to question it. He didn't take anything, the only thing he wanted was their screams in his ears and their lives ended, but he enjoyed seeing as their hope increased with every second he pretended to think about their givings. He'd always been offered the usual: money, drugs, family members, cleaning supplies, weaponry; but nothing really appealed to him like Louis did.

What ?

He growled and pulled harder on Shaun's hair as he felt the scratching and digging of nails in his brain begin again when Vee started to laugh hysterically; its core shaking violently and rattling his mind as a headache started to form. He faught the urge to shove the hunting knife deep into his skull as he tried to deliver the words that would direct Vee to stop.

"Vee. Stop. It. _NOW._ " The last part was more of a menacing growl then an actual word, Harry noted as it left his mouth.

Vee didn't even try shut up, it just started laughing harder and Harry knew where this was leading. He felt his body start to move in a rapid frenzy; shaking with an unknown force that he attempted to control with stiff movements, though knowing it was useless. _No ... Vee, please .._ , he pleaded inside his mind. Begging for it to stop altogether.

The pain was starting to over bear him; was starting to take over his mind like a fire through a forest and wasn't even trying to let itself burn out. His knuckles had turned a pale white on the grip he held with the knife, struggling to keep the weapon away from his skull and implanting it inside his head. Instead, he let go of the man's hair and threw the blade to the floor; shoving his hands on either side of his head and scratching at his ears as the clinking sound from the knife hitting the floor filled his brain with a murderous void.

He screamed as he dug his nails into the flesh covering his head and ran to the opposing side of the room; hitting Shaun with his shoulder in the process, and wincing as the muffled whimpers of the man on the hooks made their way to his sensitive eardrums. He didn't waste another second as he put his hands on the wall and directed a path from the cemented bricks to his skull; making no sounds of pain as he felt the sharp pang throb through his brain and mix with the violent shakes of laughter Vee still produced.

He hit his head against the wall repeatedly, creating a cut in the skin on his forehead and leading blood to run down near his eye; before removing himself from the brick and stumbling around the room, his hands firmly clutching his hair. He ran into numerous empty boxes; making them tumble and fall from their stacks and onto the floor with little thump, and that still made Harry give an immense, painful growl through his harshly clenched teeth.

His eyes were tightly closed as he tried to dull the pain with the thoughts of stabbing his own brain to get Vee to just stop. The thoughts only made it worse, though.

Harry crashed into another wall, oblivious to the blood splatter it left on the darkly painted brick; and the expanding cut on his forehead. He spastically turned around, his eye lids bursting open and showing the red, tear-stained green irises that frantically looking around for the blade he had thrown to the floor a short while ago.

It wasn't were he left it - near Shaun's feet - and that angered Harry, more so. Which lead to more straining agony within the tied wires of his brain; then leading back to a discomforted Harry who was really pissed off. It all went around in circles, really.  
He stumbled over to the naked man; taking in with muffled happiness how Shaun looked so much like a hooked fish dangling from a fishing line. He grabbed the mans hair again and licked his lips intimidatingly before growling out a; "where is it ?"

Shaun struggled a little in Harry's tight grasp; only to start whimpering as the hooks slowly tore at his skin more. "Where's what ?"

He was breathless from the rope, and the hook in his lower lip muffled his voice a little; and with all the noises going on within Harry's mind, it took a minute or so for the taller boy to comprehend what he had said. "The knife."

A few tears streamed down his cheeks as Harry pulled his hair more harshly. "I don't know."

He was losing his patience. "Yes, you do." He jerked Shaun's hair, making the hooks rip his skin by a centimeter. "Where is it !?"

In his haste of pulling Shaun's hair and yelling at him, Harry had lost his balance for a minor second; tripping over air and moving a bit, before once again gaining stability after treading on a sharp object that made a small 'clink' sound as soon as it touched the concrete floor. Harry slowly turned his head and stared down at the hunting knife who's blade lay out in the open while it's handle was hidden under some fallen boxes, a few feet away.

Harry let go of Shaun's hair and stumbled over to the knife; falling over onto his knees and crushing boxes under his weight as he attempted to bend down and pick it up. He patted his hand across the floor, feeling for the knife as his face currently had a cardboard box in front of it, and sighed in slight relief as he felt the blade slice the tips of his fingers.

Grabbing the handle, Harry pushed the boxes out of his way and slowly got to his knees, again; his headache still throbbing, but dulling down by every second that Vee began to get quieter. He sloppily crawled some of the way back to Shaun, only standing up on his feet when he was a half-a-meter away from the man.

He licked his lips repeatedly; tongue darting out to run over his lips from corner to corner and give a slight chuckle as his tongue retracted and he grabbed Shaun's arm. "I've been wanting to do this all day." He placed the metal flush against the hooked man's arm, lightly pushing the blade to break the clear, outer skin in a diagnol fashion. "And right as I start: I'm going to be as hooked as you are."

He used little force as he pushed the blade deeper into the skin; and soaked in Shaun's muffled screams with pure pleasure. He had a vice grip on the man's arm, and loved how the blood that spurted out of the cut; spurted on his own body and trickled down the man's skin and onto his fingers. Once the blade was in far enough that it didn't actually hit the muscle; Harry turned the blade upright and started sawing the knife back and forth as to detach the skin from the muscle beneath it.

He pushed further, the hunting knife working a charm with its sharp blade, sawing rapidly like a man with a mission - of which, he kind of was, in a way - until the blade ended at the man's elbow and the first piece of skin detached from its place and Harry had it held within his forefinger and thumb; looking at it with hungry eyes as the flab moved with every motion his hand went through.

Harry wanted to eat it; to take the flesh and bite down and devour every little piece until there was nothing in his hand except for sticky remains of dried blood, of which he could just go back over to the hanging man and rip more off until he was full. Sure, the eating process would be hard; unlike what they show in zombie movies, human skin was actually less easy to tear apart with teeth. So, Harry would have to turn into a lioness; growling as she tore the meat from the bone, for only a few minutes. Hopefully.

He stuck the knife into Shaun's gut, not caring about the breathless shouts and curses and whimpers he produced; only staring intently at the flesh in front of his face, that was held firmly within both his hands. He slowly walked away from Shaun, walking along his small path to the wall directly in front of him, and sat down on the floor with his back resting on it. He thought about saving some for Niall, granted they couldn't exactly eat little Jessica now what with their new visitors, but then decided against it; there really was more where this came from. 7 billion walking stages of it.

Didn't mean he would grab a container for later, though.

He brought the flesh to his nose and breathed it in temptingly; the rusty, rotted smell flew through his nostrils and went deep down into his lungs. It didn't smell that bad, but it didn't smell that great either; anyone with a weak stomach would have automatically added the scent of vomit to this fine piece of meat.

_Sometimes things taste better then they smell._

Harry didn't pay the voice that much attention, too distracted by both the fat meat between his fingers and his growling stomach. "Shut up, Vee." He said half-heartedly. "I'm eating for the both of us."

He put the skin in his mouth, turning his head to the side and making to tear it with his back teeth. He bite down a few times, attempting to break at least a layer of skin before going into the full-out animal motion and growling as he pawed at the meat that hung from his impatient mouth.

The first layer broke after a few harsh bites and pulls. Harry brought it out of his mouth and glared at it slightly; he wondered if it was this hard to eat cooked flesh, because man - this shit was raw.

He put it in the other side of his mouth now, using those back teeth to help break the flesh and tear it apart for his stomach. He bit down again, then pulled harshly with his teeth and fingers; it really wasn't as easy as some people made it out to be. But, with more abrasive pulling and tugging, Harry was finally able to tear the skin away from its larger half and bright it into his mouth. The taste ran over his taste buds; a mixture of blood and natural roar meat, but with a hint of something else ... Like power. And superiority.

Or this really nice, delicate taste that kind of resembled sun flowers that had been out if the burning light for a little too long. You know; that, too.

Harry's teeth met with every chomp down on the flesh; the meat slowly disintegrating within the warmth of his mouth. It was easier to chop the small piece like this, and he preferred it rather to the harsh struggle he had with tearing it away from the other skin beforehand. The meat was finally nothing but chewed pieces inside Harry's mouth as he swallow the skin and reveled on the taste that lingered within his mouth.

God, it tasted amazing. And Harry needed more.

Shoving the meat back inside his mouth again, Harry continued his bite-down-and-growl process.

\----------------------------------------------

 

"Honey, I'm home !"

Harry had went straight to Niall's small warehouse-like home after he had fully skinned the man, who's face still hung via the hooks in the ceiling. It was quite early in the morning, around eleven, and it made taken around eight hours just to skin the man completely. Granted, Harry it did take Harry an hour to eat some of the flesh; but it was mainly the skinning that took time up.

Niall looked up at the British boy from his place in the small kitchen, his blue eyes meeting with Harry's back as he closed and locked the door still. "Oh darlin'," he played, "I missed you so much !"

Niall ran towards Harry in the slow motion - but totally free and in love - way they did in movies, complete with that stupid whooshing music included within the scene. The Irishman jumped on Harry, and the British boy stumbled back a bit under his weight. Niall made sure Harry had him securely held bridal style, before giving Harry a sloppy kiss on the cheek and staring at him with pure amusement in his eyes. "Where have you been !?"

Harry tried to keep a neutral face and not crack up laughing at Niall's high pitched "woman voice", the Irishman's inner housewife becoming unfurled. "Out, love. I had business to attend to." Harry said in a deeper voice then usual.

"Well, I love you !"

Harry snorted and turned his face away from Niall's. "Frankly, my dear." He started to loosen his hold on blonde boy. "I don't give a damn." Harry laughed as the heard the loud thud of Niall hitting the floor; stepping back before he could get a could swing at his knees and bring Harry down, too.

He stepped around Niall and started to make his way to the kitchen, getting half way and looking up before freezing in his place and having his jaw almost fully drop to the floor. Standing there, leaning against the kitchen counter with his usual joint in his mouth and long black hair going past his shoulders, was none other then Harry and Niall's good old punk bestie, Dylan.  
He stared at Harry with a righteous smirk in all his punk glory: the colorful ink he had stained up both his arms and across his chest and back, meeting halfway along his neck and giving an imitating look to his young features; while his piercings gave off the same treatment but only consisting of one to his eyebrow, bridge of his nose and snake bites. The curved, slight pink scar right next to Dylan's eye still showed itself off, and he appeared to have gotten taller.

Harry hadn't seen Dylan in two years; they lost touch after they graduated high school, really, but when they met up again it was like no time had passed at all. The last time the saw eachother was two months after the end of the school year: Dylan had agreed to help Harry hide the body of one of his victims, as long as Harry gave him the same gesture in return. Unlike Harry, Dylan murdered his victims with reason - a stupid reason about them touching, insulting and sneaking glances at the guy he loves, but still reason - and he never really needed help hiding the bodies - like Niall, the police just thought Dylan's victims were missing - but that one had taken a lot of time to bury and Dylan had have been moving to New York City with the 'love of his life' the next day, so he needed a little help, then.

But now, here he was again, looking like he was trying to hold back a laugh from the priceless expression on Harry's face. "Styles !"

That deep British voice knocked Harry out of his thoughts, and made him sort of half-run, half-jog over to his old 'best friend'. "Dylan Goddamn Jackson !" He wrapped his arms around the skinny lad, patting his back a few times before pulling back and putting an arm over his shoulder. "Where the fuck have you been all this time !?"

Dylan laughed, a large smile forming on his face; which then caused his scar to crinkle up. "New York City ! You should have remembered that."

"I do. Just spur of the moment, you know ?"

Dylan nodded and laughed a little more, Harry hyperactive attitude taking a hold of him before he stared down at the large container Harry held within his large hand. "What you got there ?"

Harry looked down at the container, too, then looked back up as he saw Niall making his way over to the catch-up meeting held in his kitchen. Harry took his arm away from Dylan and grabbed the container, lifting the lid and showing the contents to the curious boys near him. "Want some skin ?"

Niall coughed and spluttered at the smell; clutching his gut and covering his mouth with his hand as he took a few steps away from Harry and more towards the door where the fresh air was held. "God, Harry. That's fuckin' foul."

Dylan had an eyebrow raised and was looking back and forth between Harry's grinning face and Shaun's old flesh. "In some dark, twisted way," he began, "that is really fucking deep. I don't even know." He took a lighter out his back pocket and began to light up the joint in the corner of his mouth; throwing it on the counter as he stared at the flesh again. "Where'd you get it ?"

"Mypes Road in London. Around the corner from Club Dixon. He was a bit of a struggler."

Dylan nodded in agreement. "Lovely ones, ain't they ?"

Niall cautiously made his way back over to the flesh and began prodding it. "What happened to our organs ?"

"Well, we couldn't exactly eat them, Niall; what with our special guests and small car incident, so I decided to skin a man and eat that instead. It was much cheaper, too. Lord knows how everyone is with money, these days."

Dylan scrunched his eyes up, pulling a face and mimicking people in a high voice. "Two dollar a lot of money." He cupped his hands and reached out to Harry, "I need it to feed my family."

They all laughed lightly at his impersonation; the weird atmosphere being lifted with the chuckles the boys produced. Dylan reached forward and grabbed a piece of torn skin from the clear container as Niall began to speak. "Speaking of our guests, though; Louis asked about you."

Harry's head snapped up to Niall, causing the headache from earlier to slowly make it's way back to his mind as his brain smacked around inside his skull. He closed his eyes briefly and dulled the pain by squeezing his eyes shut. "What'd he say ?"

Apparently Harry asked that a little too desperately, as from his left he heard snorting laughter that was attempting to be calmed. He turned to face Dylan, glaring at him. "What ?"

Dylan pursed his lips in a tight smile, trying to contain his laughter as he played with his tattooed fingers. "Is someone smitten ?" He asked in amusement.

"What ? No !" Harry rushed to defend himself maybe a little _too_ quickly; as Dylan just erupted into its of half-hidden chuckles. Even Niall was fighting to contain himself as realization dawned on the Irishman. "Shut up, you fucks. I have _no_ feelings for him."

"You do to !" Niall input. "That's why you were staring at him like the sun shined out his ass. And you didn't understand what was happening to you, so you got pissed off and ran for it. _I knew it !_ You want him !"

Harry clenched his teeth and growled. "If I want him for any reason, it'd be to abduct him and make him help me understand why I feel this way !" As soon as the words broke from his mouth, the crazed side took over Harry's features; his eyes slowly widening and a dark smirk etching its way onto his face. "Yes." He sighed in satisfaction, making both boys look at him in amused questioning. "I'll get him. I'll abduct him and _make_ him tell me what it wrong. And as soon as I understand, he'll have no choice but to stay with me. No. Fucking. Choice."

Harry left the container on the counter and walked around it and Niall as he stared intently at nothing; pacing the supposed 'living room'. "He will not leave my side once. He will be permanently tied to I, and I'll make him love me with every ounce of his small, petite, fragile being. He'll break; I'll make him fucking break. His soul cursed and dignity falling to pieces." He stopped pacing and turned to face the other interested murderers, who stared back at him with anticipation. "He'll become a ragdoll in my arms, his innocence faded and nothing left but a small, broken, scarred soul who was inable to help himself. Yes. I shall get him."

Niall chose this moment to step forward and speak. "If you're planning on basically kidnapping him, how do you suppose to do that ? Those guys took him to a hospital to get fixed and I can guarantee that he wont be let out any time soon."

Harry made his way back over to the Irishman; his large hand finding its way to Niall's throat and holding it firmly, but not daring to squeeze. "I don't care. I want him now, physically injured or not. And I always get what I want, Niall."

Niall nodded, his features calm despite the hand at his throat; that he was in honesty, oblivious to. "I'll help you. I can distract Liam and Zayn while you grab Louis."

"I can get Kirei to interrupt the camera system. Aimee and Diana can help me distract the fuckers that work there." Dylan added calmly while taking a swig at his joint. "We can get the gang back together again, I say. Then you can have your little Queen."

Harry nodded and let his hand slip from Niall's throat; turning away and reaching into his back pocket to grab Matilda, pulling our her blade and twisting the tip into the pad of his finger. It was a perfect plan; old friends would be united and Harry would have his new pet: free to do whatever he wanted with him. But he needed one more agreement for his plan, so they wouldn't get in the way.

"What do you say, Vee ?" He asked while staring into space.

The wires at the back of his brain pulled and twisted, indicating that the voice inside his head was thinking. Harry was too deep into his thoughts to be annoyed by Vee's extended thinking.

_Lets do it._

A smile slowly creeped its way back onto Harry's face; teeth gleaming and the dark edge taking place in his green irises. He licked his lips before smiling again, turning back to face the two boys behind him.

"Lads," he said. "I'm getting my Queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vee can be nice sometimes .. SOMETIMES. EXTENDED EMPHASIS ON THE //SOMETIMES//.
> 
> I feel like I've skimped on the skinning scene, too, but I didnt want it to be droning on and on like some fanfics I've read, so .. Yeah.
> 
> I hope you're hooked ...
> 
> @HOASKOfficial - twitter ! Yaaaaay.


	6. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FINALLY HERE. EVEN IM EXCITED.
> 
> Im sorry its late/overdue/whichever; I was trying to deal with some stuff and everything just didn't work out and I just needed time to myself because all these problems and reasons to kill myself were just piling on ! And yeah .. Im sorry.
> 
> Hopefully, Im back on track now.
> 
> -Porcelain.xx

They had made their dull, mid-afternoon drive back to Harry's flat.

Dylan had called Kirei, and told him to call Aimee and Diana; giving Harry's address and telling them to be there around two, while Niall just sat on the couch yelling impassive threats at the referee again. The boys - mainly Harry and Dylan, Niall already knew what he had to do, and that was all he was going to do, really - had spent an entirety of almost three hours figuring out the plan and set ups, making sure for it to run smoothly without anyone noticing that one of the hospital's main patients was being abducted into bloody hands.

They had figured that Kirei would obviously disfigure the camera systems; change the picture and recording systems so know one knew. Dylan and Diana were going to distract the doctors, nurses and receptionists around Louis' room; perform some crazy tricks like throwing themselves at doors, tipping things over and screaming utter nonsense, while Harry would quietly sneak into the room and reassure a small Louis that everything was okay, before sneaking him into the bathroom and dragging - kind of, Harry didn't want to worsen Louis' physical wounds - him out the bathroom window that lead to a not-all-that-used alley way. Of which would hold an awaiting Aimee in a nice, non-suspicious car; she'd drive them back to Harry's apartment and everyone would meet back up there.

It was perfect; completely planned out and everything was already in order. Kind of. They were now just waiting for the others to get here to explain the situation.

Niall was currently rummaging through Harry's kitchen cupboards, mumbling something about needing some Doritos before taking Liam and Zayn out for a distraction dinner. Which made no sense to Harry whatsoever, honestly, but he wasnt questioning Niall's endless food consumption. Dylan was asleep on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes while one foot touched the floor and the other leg was thrown over the back of the torn and basically destroyed couch; snoring his head off so loudly that Harry faught the want to run in there and kill him brutally with a frying pan.

Harry was currently in his un-used "bedroom". It wasn't actually a bedroom, not really, it was just an small, dark room that was supposed to allocate a bed that Harry never bothered putting in until now. The queen-sized - Harry silently laughed at himself - french style bed was located in the center of the small room, taking up almost all the space inside; he had even hung some fabric from the ceiling that draped over the bed and made it look fit for a Queen. Sure, the walls were dark and dirty and there was no light except for that illuminating through the small window on the wall on the farside, and it was horribly small that one had to turn sideways just to move around - which wouldnt come easily for when you were trying to escape rats and bugs that Harry was sure lived in the room - but it was big enough to fit a small abducted man who wasn't going to be going anywhere else for the rest of his life besides the bathroom.

Harry stood back in the doorway and looked at the furniture; admiring his handy work and how he was able to assemble an entire bed frame, that he was probably going to break - because, lets be honest here, he was going to fuck Louis into the mattress and he could do crazed motions with his hips that no one else could - and have to re-assemble if the frame itself wasn't destroyed. Soon enough, he was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a ceramics crashing and knocks on his front door.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly shaking his head and he wondered just what the hell Niall dropped now as he retreated from the room. He closed the door to his soon-to-be-Queen's room and walked quietly down the hallway, flipping Niall off and telling the fucker to clean up the glass bowl and chips he had dropped; ignoring Niall's pouting face as Harry basically scolded him.

Quickly swinging the door open; he was met by a squeal of "Harry !" and a crashing hug that squeezed every small molocule of oxygen out of his lungs and made him stumble back to catch his balance again. He awkwardly patted the person's back before they slowly moved away and light hazel eyes stared back at him in full happiness.

"Long time no see, Di."

Diana nodded quickly; removing her whole 'macho woman' aura and letting her guards down for her old best friend. "So long, Harry. I stayed in London and I cannot believe we haven't seen eachother for almost an entire year !"

Looking at her now, Harry saw that Diana hadn't aged a bit. Her dark brown skin still had that light glow to it and her almost-black hair was still braided in long waves that allowled you to see some of her scalp. She hadn't even lost any of her muscle; sometimes Harry thought that despite her thin body she had bigger biceps then him or something. He laughed at the thought. "What've you been up to ?"

She shrugged. "Same ol', same ol'. Shot my now-ex boyfriend in the head when I found him cheating on me with the fucking maid. Gave that nigga the same fucking treatment." She moved away from Harry to make her way to the fridge, no doubt wondering if he had any beer, and almost squealed again when she saw the Irishman. "Niall, you fucking nugget, where the fuck have you been !?"

Harry focused back on Aimee and Kirei; Aimee already making her way into the apartment as Kirei continued to stand in the doorway: out of focus and staring at nothing like he usually did. Harry's eyes turned to a tall mousy blonde making her way toward him with open arms.

"Mr. Styles," she said, trying to hide the smile off her round face. "It's been forever, I swear."

She hugged him tightly as Harry laughed, patting her back in the same awkward way he did with Diana; Harry was never one for hugs with females. He didn't like the way he could feel bags of lumps on his chest. "We only saw eachother four months ago. You loose track of time, Aims."

She stepped away from the tall boy, laughing lightly as she threw her head back and nodded to an oblivious Kirei. "That's him." Her eyes raked over his body; focusing slowly on his chest as she continued. "You've gotten muscle. Tell me, is it your new work out program of killing chasing and killing people that gets your heart racing and helps your muscles grow ?"

Harry grinned, showing his cannibalistic teeth in a slightly frightening smile. "Possibly. Or its the thought of me getting Louis that gets my dead heart to do that 'thump thump' thing, romance novelists are always writing about."

Aimee snorted, making her way past Harry; only to stop and stare at a laughing Niall in Harry's small kitchette. Looking at her, he saw the look of adoration in her blue eyes. Aimee had always had a thing for Niall. What ? Harry didn't know. He tried to get them together one time, but since Harry had never had a relationship himself he wasn't so good at planning dates or anything.

_At least she hasn't lost that envious swoon in her looks,_ Vee said.

Harry rolled his eyes as he walker over to Kirei; taking slow steps as to not scare him out of his daze - Harry had done that once and he still had the scratch marks that had settled into scars on his chest - and make the small boy more paranoid then he already was. "Hey, Kirei." He cautiously whispered. Harry wasn't exactly scared of Kirei, really; just worried of the things he was capable of. Which happened to be a lot. "How are you ?"

Harry had always wondered about the small boy. Kirei was .. strange, to say the least. And creepy. And just plain out fucking scary. For a serial killer to be fully worried and creeped out by someone; they had to be one of the most fucked up creatures with the worst personalities in the whole goddamn galaxy. Kirei wasn't into satanic rituals like Niall, no; he was basically a witch. Kirei could hypnotize you or possess you or make you do just whatever the fuck he wanted you to do. He was terrifying, really. He had once made Harry see things that couldn't be unseen; just from those multicolored - he had one green eye and one light grey eye, for god sake ! - orbs staring deep within Harry's own, he had shown these horrible pictures of butterflies and flowers and bright meadows and these stupid horse creatures with big horns on their heads that reminded him of the animal version of literal dickheads.

It creeped him out more because Kirei had never even met Harry before, when he did that; and he knew of what disgusted and horrified Harry the most.

"Harry .." He said, in an accented, light voice that sounded very distant and strained. "You should listen to Vee, next time. It knows what it's doing."

Harry felt his dislike for Kirei increase almost as much as the vibration of the wires inside his head, as Vee tried to hold back scratching laughter. He crinkled his nose up in disgust as he dragged Kirei inside the room and pushed him over to a still sleeping Dylan; closing the door behind him and turning around to face the others.

They stared back at him in patience, obviously awaiting for him to speak of the plan that they were going to participate in. He nodded to them as his eyes caught all theirs - except Dylan's, but he already knew of the plan - and he spoke. "Alright, so we all know who we're going to get, right ?" They nodded. "And why we're doing it ?"

"You finally found someone you're head over heels for and you can't stand the thought of them breaking up with you after you started dating, so you're gonna abduct them and make them stay with you for the rest of your and their troubled lives ?"

Harry stared at Aimee as she spoke, no doubt being sarcastic. At least, he thinks so, anyway. It was hard to tell with her.

"Something like that." He was focusing on the rest, again. "Look, the plan is: Kirei, you are going to disable the cameras; Diana, you and Dylan are going to distract the doctors and nurses, give them a full on show so they dont notice me sneaking in the room; Aimee, you are going to have your van in motion at the back of the hospital in the alley way, Im gonna need you to drive off when I shove him inside it; and Niall will take Liam and Zayn out for dinner. Okay ?"

They nodded; none of them daring to say anything else in fear of the murderer's wrath. He thought it quite stupid, really, his own "friends" - quotes because he really didn't want friends, honestly - being afraid of him; but Harry remembered that time he almost legitimately killed someone in high school for shoving him into a locker and laughing about it, afterwards. He had beaten them to a pulp, their body was covered in cuts and blood and bruises just from a few - admittedly vicious - punches, and flashed his shiny Matilda just for the hell of it. He was that close to being sent to juvenile hall. Imagine if he had gone, though. He wouldn't be doing any of this today, and the entirety of London would be a much better place: with plenty of people, and trusing glances and happy, smiling faces just looking forward to a brand new day.

How miserably sad.

Aimee had gone down to get the van ready, the rest following her as Harry kicked the couch to wake up the sleeping punk. "Oi, get up." He grabbed the color of Dylan's almost competely torn band shirt. "We're going. Wake up you dumbass and get in bloody car." Harry had dragged Dylan off the couch and threw him to the floor half way through the sentence; the tall, tattooed-boy giving a number of numerous cursing threats towards Harry as he slowly climbed up from the couch and stumbled outside the door.

Harry turned to Niall, catching the Irishman before he left the apartment. "Make sure its a good excuse. And keep them out for a while; maybe take them for a few pints after, yeah ?"

Niall nodded; pleased to have the thought of a few pints circling around in his mind. "Definitely."

They both made their way towards the door; Harry turning off the light and turning around as a wide, manic grin filled his features and he felt a psychotic laugh make its way to the back of his throat.

\----------------------------------------------------

 

They were almost ready; Niall had taken Niall and Zayn to dinner twenty minutes ago, Kirei had somehow hacked into the hospital's camera system and Aimee was waiting in the large alley with the van. Harry was feeling crazed, and a little excited: it was like a heist.

Diana and Dylan were preparing to go inside the hospital; Niall had told them that Louis was on the seventh floor, so they were going to create commotion on the sixth and hopefully it'd be enough commotion to drag those from the upper floor down and leave the patients in vulnerability.

Not that they weren't already.

"What are you planning on doing ?"

Dylan shook his head, quickly finishing off his joint before going inside. "Probably just gonna make ourselves seem as psychotic as you are." He said, blowing a puff of white smoke into the atmosphere. "What are you gonna do with your little pet ?"

Harry gave a dark chuckle, staring crazedly at the sunset in the horizon; the orange gleams glistened on his features and really gave him a more manic appearance. "Everything. Fix him, break him, ruin him; and then do it all over again."

Diana laughed, her american accent giving her a deep but light tone of voice. "You have fun with that; we gon' go have fun in there." She said, standing up and moving in front of Dylan. "C'mon, move y'all bitch ass we got work to do."

Dylan gave an exasperated sigh as he slowly stood up, dropping his used blunt to the gravel and stepping on it. "I'm getting too old for this shit, really."

"You ain't that old," Kirei said from the passengers seat of the van. "Quit complaining and get in there."

"I'll get in you."

Harry got out of the van and stretched his back; loving the way the pops and cracks felt after siting in said van for an hour. "Please don't. Or, at least wait until I have my beautiful Queen so I can give the same process to him."

Diana laughed again as they shut the back doors to the van, and walked past it; making their way to the hospital doors.

Walking through them; that signature musky, unknown hospital smell hit their senses full-front, making Harry pull a face at the foul odour of chemicals and happiness from people getting better. It was sickening, really. The living. They should all be dead.

As they were walking past the inhabitants with their heads down, heading towards the elevator located on the far wall, Harry thought about how he felt more like a spy then an actual serial killer; the camera interferences, the big black van, calling on his 'friends' to help him: it was weird. But he knew that as soon as his Queen was in his arms, broken and battered with no control in his power, and Louis' life was in the hands of Crimson; then all would feel right again and the only questioning he'd be doing is that of whether he wanted to use lubricant or go in dry.

And how tight his hand should be around Louis' neck.

_Its going to be weird when you two have sex,_ Vee said as they entered the elevator, turning around to face the closing metal doors. _I'm here, and I will see everything._

Harry scrunched his nose up in disgust, focusing a little too much on the thought of Vee seeing everything that was meant for his eyes only. "You do use my eyes to see everything else, Vee." He said plainly, not paying any attention to the other two in the elevator who knew nothing about Vee and thought he was just having a usual conversation to some sort of ghost or something. "Besides, you have no one else to tell. Your social life only consists of me."

The clawing started as it laughed and Harry pinched his eyes shut in attempted tolerance for the voice. _Your social life only consists of me, too. Usually._

Harry kept his mouth shut in hope to get it to leave him alone for the rest of their plan.  It shouldn't have even spoke to him in the first place; Harry would have to yell at the voice later.

Arriving on the sixth floor, Dylan and Diana quickly escaped the enclosed box of space; looking around like scavengers and starting to yell stupid things as they began to cause an intense amount of ruckus. Their loud noises and shouts faded out as Harry slowly made his way to the seventh floor: quickly dodging out the way of scrambling doctors and nurses trying to squeeze inside the elevator. Harry assumed they were going down to the floor below to help handle the two manic dipshits; who he could actually still hear despite the plastered floor under his feet.

He turned around, taking in the sight before him.

Harry was standing in the middle of a hallway, and the floor had an office directly in front of the doors; rooms went down both lengths of the corridor and down the side of the open hectagon-like office area. It was all basically the same color; a neutral cream white that made the entire setting seem very dull and boring and was very widely spaced.

Harry didnt know what room Louis was in. Since he couldn't exactly ask the worried and busy-looking assistant that paid no attention to him whatsoever; he had to go searching. Recalling back to the conversation they had on the way here, Niall had also said that his room number was 247. But, it still meant he'd have to go searching, since this was a big hospital with thirty rooms per floor.

He turned to his left, down the quieter and less lighted part of the corridor that seemed to withhold more rooms. The sign above pointed the direct way that Harry was walking and had 'Surgery' written in clear letters. This would be the right way to go, wouldn't it ? Louis would've had surgery for the nice bone that was basically pointing out of his leg during the car accident. Definitely. Although, walking down to the end of that corridor was another corridor; to which Harry hung his head down and sighed exasperatingly and cursed whoever the fuck made hospitals in the first place.

He really hated hospitals. They were mazes for the diseased.

He took a right this time, head moving back and forth as he looked at the name tags posted on each door he silently passed: Kelsea Maine, William Carol, Georgia Rose, Kellan McCartney, Louis Tomlinson-

Harry stopped in his tracks and retreated a few steps, staring at the door that held a 'Louis Tomlinson', with an upraised eyebrow in questioning. He didn't know Louis' last name, so he wasn't exactly sure if this would be the right Louis; the people of England had a thing for naming all their kids after really old names that were heard no where else but in Britain. So there would probably be at least ten different 'Louis'' in this hospital altogether.

Harry slowly stepped towards the door, peeking through the tiny rectangular window in the wooden frame; only to shake his head and sigh again as his eye's only caught the end of a metal bed, closed curtains to a large window and a televison hung up high in the corner. He'd have to actually go in the room to see if it was his Louis, and if it wasn't, well; his plan would be a little teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, tinsy-winsy bit screwed.

He let his hand slip down the door and to the metal handle, pushing it down and opening the door slowly, as he haphazardly stepped inside the cold room, dull room. The door shut with a small click as he turned around and made his way over to the metal bed.

Coming around the small corner; he almost shouted in glee as he saw the sleeping and utterly drugged features of his small, broken Queen; breathing lightly in his peaceful slumber and probably dreaming about the simpler days that were soon to become a forgein past to his stable mind.

The taller boy walked over to stand beside his Queen and resting his hand on the head of the frame and leaning down; gazingly lovingly at the sleeping beauty in the hospital bed. Grabbing Louis' hand and lightly squeezing, he looked around at he machines he needed to disconfigure; hoping that they would come with some form of alarm from pulling them out the electrical sockets. He wasn't sure, though, and decided to make his way over to the large window that hopefully looked out to the alleyway beside the hospital; after reluctantly letting go of his Queen's hand.

He opened the curtains slightly, just enough to poke his head through and look out to the view below; which quite obviously held an empty alleyway and a black van. Aimee had apparently seen him, too; waving at him from the dark tint of the van, which Harry had to squint to see, but good sunset and an open window were on his side.

He slowly shook his head, not believing he knew these people and unlocked the sliding doors that entered out to a small balcony, over looking the deserted street, before turning back to his sleeping beauty; all torn and cut and bruised - very pretty, he was - and dragged his feet to the heart monitor that was currently letting off a steady beep; kneeling down and brushing his fingertips up its twisted cords to the electrical point; putting his finger on the power switch and looking up to his Queen.

"You'll be mine soon. So, so very soon."

He flicked the switch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.
> 
> I think it was short, I dunno.


	7. Not As Planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY ANOTHER CHAPTER HOLY SHIT
> 
> Okay, so, I haven't been able to write or post much because of personal problems, school (Im graduating this year AAAYYEEEEEEE), those days where Im so depressed I cant even bother to open my eyes, Zayn's birthday (DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME), Liam's rant (I unfollowed, like, thirty people because they were all hating Liam for defending himself. Im very protective of my boys, do you dare be in this fanbase and insult them like that, I will bite your head off), my sisters birthday, Midnight Memories music video (which I was also helping to break the VEVO record, and Im still wondering where the fuck the rest of you guys where when we needed more views), Harry's birthday (KEEP THE FUCKING FUCK AWAY FROM ME), Liam getting his driver's license (PLEASE RETURN DEAD BODY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING TO THE DARKEST PITS OF HELL PLS), my best friend Dylan's birthday (if you're reading this, bub; Happy birthday, I love you) and yeah, thats about it really.
> 
> Im sorry its so late. I was trying to write, like, a paragraph each day just to keep up work and yeah. Ugh.
> 
> But just know that even if I dont update for a little bit, I //WILL// finish this story because I love it as much as you guys do and ohmygod. Its like my baby.
> 
> So, yeah. Read it, appreciate it, dont yell at me for updating so late.  
> And enjoy the chapter ! Aye.  
> -Porcelain.xx
> 
> P.S. Remember, @pantielou and @HOASKofficial. Yey.

As soon as the switch was flicked, it came apparent that there actually was an alarm system.

Harry fell back from his crouching position, and made quick purpose to stare up at the ceiling in surprise; completely frozen in place from the loud, obnoxious piercing of noise echoing around the white room. _Goddammit_ , he thought, cursing himself for not thinking this stupid thing through enough. Of course something was bound to go wrong.

Then again, it could have just been the idiots below.

Grabbing the edge of the metal bed, he pulled himself up from his slightly painful position and was a tad more surprised when he saw that Louis' had not awoken despite the current commotion that Harry may have caused. He thought about his options, since there only was two it was easier; either make quick work of his abduction and run the risk of being seen by nosey nurses and receptionists or jump out the window, shut the fuck up and _hide_.

As soon he heard the footsteps running up the wide hallway, through the small breaks in the peircing alarm, he knew his option had been chosen for him. Sighing melodratically, he reached forward and lightly kissed Louis on the forehead; his rough, thick lips applying gentle pressure.

"I'll be coming back for you, my Queen." He whispered against the soft, tan skin as soon as the hospital room's door was shoved open.

He looked up through his fringe and saw it was only a single, male nurse. And having the chance to take his anger out on some unsuspecting asshole who ruined his plan; he reached into his back pocket subtlely, and held Matilda in his tight grasp.

"Excuse me sir, what are you doing ? Who are you ? We don't remember letting you be in here."

The male nurse took a few steps closer to Harry, in hopes to turn the tall boy around and quietly guide him out of the room before finding out what happened. Harry had different plans. As soon as he saw the nurse was definitely alone, and once he was in close range; Harry pulled Matilda fully out of his pocket and flipped her blade open. He closed the distance between the nurse and himself; grabbing the blonde man's hair and pulling it back before pushing the blade to his throat and slicing open the skin at his neck. The blood spurt from the wound and landed in bright red splats over the white walls; beads of red lines streaking down as the blood fell towards the floor.

He let the nurse's body hit the floor, he paid no mind to it as he stared at the open hospital door; the sound of pounding footsteps echoing through the silent hallway, no doubt coming into this room. Harry didn't have any time to clean up the body, but he'll be fine. There was plenty of germs from other hands on the doors and he only really grabbed the mans hair. Besides, doctors were stupid when it came to fully fledged murders in their hospital.

Irony.

He brought himself back and made quick work; turning around rapidly, before bolting to the open window doors and leaping from the seventh story of big hospital.

The falling sensation he felt as he plummeted to the ground below was better then words. The wind whipping wildly through his hair at unknown speeds; causing the brown locks to move along with it. The feeling of freedom taking a full course through his body; completely removing that aching, painful feeling that had taken over his heart, mind and soul when his sister died that night, seven years ago. If actually felt good to be falling, and knowing that you'll hit something at the end. Sometimes people don't know how much they want something until it's being done.

For Harry, though, his thoughts and feelings were put on halt, when a small thump sounded as soon as he crash landed into an open garbage calgary; the smells of rotten food and urine filling his senses as he fell deep enough into the dumpster to have unwanted rubbish flowing out under his weight and caving over him. He was covered entirely in subtances and debris; but not daring to move due to his common sense that the nurses and doctors that ran into the room must've been looking out over the balcony and into the street below. They would know - unless they just happened to be that stupid - that Harry, or whoever they thought was the intruder, would've ended up in the dumpster from their fall; so they were no doubt going to come and look for him once they had that faint but heard continuous beeping under control. Harry was actually quite astounded at how loud it happened to be.

He also knew that Kirei and Aimee would have seen his fall; rushing in to help him after the nurses, doctors and whoever the fuck else was looking down. Harry might just have to wait for a few minutes.

He took the time to check himself without actually looking down or moving. He felt for any type of pain that he felt anywhere in his body besides his chest: he tensed and flexed everything without showing his whereabouts despite being known, and when no throbbing pain made itself known, he figured that there was nothing broken; he focused on the feeling of something crawling underneath his flesh as he realized that, no, there was nothing wrong with his bodily skin. But when the crawling movement made its way up to his neck and to his face, he knew that he wouldn't get out of a 77ft. fall without getting some sort of battle wound.

From the ache he felt, it was a cut on the corner of his right eye; running along the skull frame of his eye socket. Blood freely flowed out of the deep cut that seemed close to actually connecting with his eye; he was surprised that it didn't hit, though he didn't know how it was formed. He winced at the slight sting the said wound brought him and didn't dare bring a hand up to his face to examine it; Kirei would do that anyway. And luckily, the examination didn't have to wait long: due to being that as soon as he thought about it, the garbage covering his body was starting to be pushed out of the way. He still didn't move, though. It could be the doctors or police or something, coming down to find out where he disappeared to. But, from the shout of glee that protruded from a feminine voice as soon as part of his body was uncovered: it was neither.

Aimee continued to remove the garbage from his upper body, soon smiling brightly as she finally found his face amongst the waste pile that created a smell Harry would never be able to remove.

Wonderful.

"Harry ! You _are_ alive." She grabbed the collar of his shirt, not know where his hands were, and pulled; bringing him up and out of the rotten garbage like he had risen from the depths of the dumpster. Harry reached forward and placed his hands on Aimee's shoulders, regaining control of his legs and throwing them over the edge of the dumpster.

He landed lightly on his feet, despite his obvious imbalance from the oxygen that left his brain; causing him to almost tumble over onto the pavement again. Kirei stared at Harry's wobbling frame; comparing him to a baby deer just learning to walk and feeling no pity as he grabbed Harry's arm and started dragging the British boy over to the black van.

"What happened ?" Kirei asked, sliding open the back door and pushing Harry inside before climbing in after him. "Despite you not getting your little pet and us basically wasting our time."

Harry put the palm of his hand against his skull, applying strong pressure to stop the spiteful bleeding while looking at the white-haired boy and growling; a look of intolerance ghosting his face. "There was an alarm. I wasn't able to get him."

Kirei snorted, reaching forward and closing the door completely, before sitting on one of the side benches within the van and examing his painted nails. "Obviously. And you seemed so sure of getting him, too."

Harry knew Kirei was taunting him, like he always did when something went wrong with plans everyone seemed to be sure of. Or when something happened that the foreign boy just did not like. Harry absolutely hated Kirei when it came to that; he'd taunt someone, and then they'd be the one lying on the floor with their face pressed into the ground after attempting to attack him. Kirei could really fight for himself, even if he was the one who started the fight, and Harry really hated that about him.

"Shut up. I was close."

"Not close enough." He snapped; making a small spark of anger start to creep through Harry's veins. He hated when he was put on the receiving end of annoyance and he wasn't going to be treated like this.

"Listen, Kirei: it's not my fault that there are alarm systems for every single little thing in that stupid hospital, okay ? I was going to try and hurredly get him out but then that jump would've damaged both him and me in the fucking process ! Now I don't know about you, _Kirei_ , but just because I could careless if everyone else in the world died a trgic death does not mean I would please to ! And just because I would really like a Queen to keep me company doesn't mean I am going to bend over backwards and do cartwheels just to get what I want ! I make people pay when they stop me from getting or doing something, okay ? And that fucking hospital altogether will _pay_."

Kirei started growling as soon as Harry began yelling at him; and Harry was fighting the urge to reach for his darling Matilda and slice the small, white-haired boys throat. But, of course, he couldn't do that because Kirei just happened to be the love of Dylan's life and the British punk wouldn't be afraid to brutally murder the serial killers in alike ways he did to other people.

_Wow_ , Harry though. _This is fucked up._

_Just slightly. Can we leave ?_ Vee asked, it's rough voice scratching at his inner mind as it angrily suggested Harry's next move.

"I'm leaving." He said, sitting up and moving to open the door as he turned back; glaring at Kirei. "And you can tell Dylan not to blame me, if he finds a broken and bloody little mental patient in his bed later."

Harry jumped out of the van and broke into a sprint; still feeling a cold glare penetrating his back as his body quickly disappeared further into the street.

\----------------------------------------

 

Harry was undeniably pissed off with the world. Today had just gone so bloody badly.

Lying back on his bed, ankles crossed and arms tucked behind his head, he thought over the days events: since when did beating heart machines have a back up alarm system that was still in use despite being turned off at the switch ? As if the repeated chime of the machine wasn't bad enough, they had to include a full-on whistle blowing noise that would annoy the shit out of everyone in a ten street radius ? What form of utter stupidity was it ?

Harry hated hospitals, with their stupid doctors and nurses and helping-everyone-with-a-sickness-or-injury thing. It was entirely unhelpful and unneeded. If that stupid alarm system hadn't got in his way, along with its fellow responding occupants: he would be softly caressing his beautiful, feather-haired Queen. Or brutally fucking him. But of course something had to get in the way, the plan was too easy going for something to not get in the way and totally throw everything off track and piss of the - self-titled - world's best serial killer. The entirety of London should not be surprised if every doctor and nurse within the vacinity was tortured with no mercy, only to be painfully murdered while their hospital was being burnt into an abnormally large pile of ashes and rubble.

Harry decided to throw the thought out of his mind and save it for later; then thinking back to focus on his previous thought on what he'd do to his Queen.

Sexually.

Harry felt his already-tight jeans start to cut off blood circulation as the images of a sweaty, innocent, tied-up Louis came to his mind: the small tan boy lying on his large bed, with his legs spread apart and his tight puckered, pink hole clasping around nothing and just waiting for Harry's big cock to fill him up. His sweet, light voice would be begging for Harry to look after him; to stuff him full of his white seed and breed him like there was no tomorrow. Make the head board create dents in the wall above it and utterly destroy the small boy that would be tied beneath Harry's muscular but lean body.

Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts when he realized he was palming himself through his skinny jeans.

_You're an animal._

Harry sighed annoyedly, moving up from the bed and completely ignoring his own thoughts as he started to strip himself of his clothes; having slightly more trouble with his pants then usual due to the large erection trying to break free from both layers of cloth on his waist. He figured he'd have to start wearing sweatpants more often.

Having already removed his shirt as soon as he arrived home; Harry grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom cupboard and made his way into the bathroom. He looked towards the slightly dripping shower; contentness (or pre-cum, whatever) seeping through his fingers as he walked over and reached for the shower taps, turning them to a luke warm temperture before climbing in and just standing there.

Harry let the calming water spray over his back; closing his eyes as it fell down his chest and biting his lip when he wrapped his hand around his achingly hard cock.

He imagined his beautiful, delicate Queen pressed flush against the wall of the shower; his beautifully big ass poking out and his bright diamond blue eyes looking up at Harry with innocence and eagerness.

Harry started to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft; pinching the head and squeezing the base as he focused.

_Louis would be tight. Not just normal tight; virgin tight and clasping his beautiful unfucked walls around Harry's dick. He'd be wanting it, begging for it; for Harry to just pound him into the wall and the bed and the table and wherever the hell else Harry would shove him on or against._

Harry threw his head back as his hand increased in it's movements and his other hand found its place on the wall beside him, digging his fingernails into the plaster while the pressure of which he was biting his slip increased.

_Louis would be fucking his tight virgin hole back onto Harry's large cock; and Harry would have his hands resting on the shower wall as he took in the beautiful display. His Queen would be flustered red and completely wet as Harry took his virginity in the scorching hot shower spraying its water between both their inseperable bodies._

Harry let out an animalistic growl as his hand movements became erratic and he started thrusting into his clenching fist. He knew he was close as slight blood started dripping down his bottom lip.

_Louis would be so eager for Harry, that as soon as the head of Harry's cock was pushed past Louis' tight ring of muscle; Louis would shove himself back forcefully on Harry's member and scream when it penetrated the small boy. The skin of his hole would tear but his Queen would continue to move despite the pain; and Harry would grab his small hips. He'd dig bruises into the tan skin as he brutally thrusted into the petite boy's prostate; forming animalistic growls deep within his chest. He'd thrust in harshly while pulling Louis' pelvis back forcefully; continuing to make his Queen scream in pain and pleasure as blood slowly leaked around his cock ..._

Harry came with a shout; feeling his white hot seed start to spurt onto the shower floor and drip down his fist. He leant against the cold tile wall as his breathing sped up a little.

Bringing his hand up into view, he stared at the cum displayed on his large hand and ignored the rest of the semen erupting from his slowly softening dick.

"He's going to be the death of me ..." Harry whispered, as he slowly sunk to the shower floor and closed his eyes. Falling asleep with the warm water continuing to spray down his tattooed chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to hate me, Im sorry it wasn't updated for over a month. I legit really hate myself for it.
> 
> BUT THAT ENDING THO WOWOWOW. CAN I GET AN AMEN.


	8. A Dahlia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this ? An actual chapter ? Did you ever think it would be so !? After almost an entire year of no update !?  
> I know what you're thinking: "Its about fucking time."
> 
> -Porcelain.xx
> 
> AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HARRY STYLES WHO IS NOT TWINNY WAN

"In other news: Crimson the infamous well-known, world-class serial killer has striked again. This time deciding for their next victim to be a nurse in the London City Hospital, inside an actual patients room. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the patient was unconscious at the time. This serious turn of events may have also had a relation to the commotion of visitors on the floor below where the murder took place at roughly the same time. It has lead to the question: why has Crimson struck in broad daylight and in the public eye? We'll have more information on this horrid crime as the Police release their statements."

Harry sat on the couch staring intently at the early news protruding from his television. He glared at the news reporter - a snobby, professional 30-year-old with blonde hair and a pant suit - while nursing his almost empty bottle of beer.

It was almost one in the morning and his urges to take another life were starting to make his body shake in anticipation. His last kill may have been less than ten hours ago but his addiction was catching up to him again. He honestly couldn't help it. He enjoyed their screams and tears and their begging and how even though they well knew there was a serial killer out there taking one life after the other, they still sort of trusted him. Like he was some hero coming to save their lives and take all their problems and fears of being next away.

Hopeful. That's what they were.

Harry leaned forward, grabbing the remote and turning off the T.V., encompassing the entire room in darkness. Maybe it was just his mind living up to the expectations of being a nutjob, but it was like he could actually feel the darkness reaching up and grabbing him: taking a hold of his body and slowly dragging him more and more into the expanded depths of despair and insanity.

He quickly finished off his beer bottle; throwing it on the floor and listening as it smashed against the carpet and ricocheted off the remaining pieces of glass from the numerous other bottles he's thrown to the floor that ended in the same destroyed fate as the ones before it. He then sighed, standing up and not even bothering to lightly tred over the glass as he walked.

He felt the tiny segments pierce through the skin on his feet: etching themselves deep into his soles and causing blood to trickle out. He could only imagine the color of his own blood on the numerous sections of orange-brown glass that covered some spaces of his floor. The way his blood would fuse into the brownish colors and cause a transparency of beauty that would much resemble the earth and the way it would end.

As he manuvered his way through the darkness, he saw his phone light up on the kitchen counter: a bright light in the shadows that blasted an annoying ringtone, causing Harry to twitch slightly with a want to just destroy the little mechanical device. He already knew who was calling before he even saw the Caller ID, knowing well that they would've been watching the news at this time of night and had of seen the news story.

"Yes, Niall?" He answered.

He could basically hear the Irishman rubbing his hand over his face. "You killed someone. In the Hospital."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, and?"

"I thought you were smarter than that. You know damn well you're meant to treat them to dinner first."

The British boy turned around and stepped towards where he knew the refridgerator was. "Why are you caring so much, exactly?"

"Because despite the distraction Dylan and Di caused, you wouldn't have been able to erase your finger prints over the room that quickly. Not to mention, your little unrequited lover-boy may have woken up from all the commotion and caught a very detailed glimspe of you before your high-flying trapeze jump from his window."

Harry froze for a few seconds, hand in the middle of reaching into his fridge for another drink. He recollected himself and shook his head, slamming the small door shut behind him and knocking the bottle cap off with the edge of his counter top. "No, he couldn't have been awake. I would've known."

"Are you sure? The reporter said herself that the police had basically collected statements and one of those may have been from him."

"He wasn't awake, okay?" He snapped.

Niall made a whistling noise, before letting out a slight laugh. "Don't get all pissy, now. I'm trying to help you."

Harry growled. "I don't need help."

"Right, and what was that thing you needed 'no help' with a few years ago? Wasn't it that removal and spreading of a detached body over London or something?"

He decided to change the subject. "How was your outing with frick and frack?"

Luckily, Niall went with it. "I think they actually are frick and fracking. They kept giving these disgusting loved up looks to eachother and what I assume was repeated sexual innuendos, judging by how hard Zayn was sucking on his straw. It was gross, man. I don't know. They were two steps away from actually having hearts in their eyes and shit."

Harry pulled a face as he crossed the kitchen and began to walk down the hallway. "Third wheeling are you now, Ni?"

"Apparently, its like they didn't even know I-"

Harry stopped listening as he stepped on something he was sure resembled some form of organ. He heard - as well felt - the squelch of the small liquidy blob beneath his still-bleeding foot and quickly stepped back as to not totally smother the thing with his weight. He then knelt down and shone the light from his phone over the intrusive organ-thing. Putting his beer bottle near his foot, he examined it closely: picking it up and turning it this way and that in his palm; watching as soft shades of yellow and orange goo rubbed off on his hand and stained his skin with sickening colors. Looking even more closely, he saw that it wasn't actually an organ.

It was a dead squirrel fetus. One he removed from the womb of its mother, that he no doubt horrifically killed.

He shone the illuminating light back onto the floor, looking at where the fetus had lain before he picked it up and saw that the glass jar it had been held in had broken. Shattered pieces of stained yellow glass - that much resembled the beer bottles - were thrown across the wood floor, with a small pile of fluids in the middle.

He slowly brought the phone back to his ear.

He didn't remember doing this? He would've known and at least cleaned up if he broke one of his many fetus jars. He doesn't drink so much that he stumbles around his apartment drunk and bang into walls. _How the fuck did this break?_ He thought.

He heard Niall calling for him through the phone and he felt his heart begin to beat faster and his blood begin to boil as he thought of someone entering his house. Intruding in his personal life, in his home and breaking one of his many Jars of Memories.

"Niall." He said, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Harry! H, what's up? Where'd you disappear to?"

Harry looked around the hallway, his eyes already well-adjusted to the darkness. "I think someone was in my house."

Niall was silent for a minute, eyes wide and heart slightly pounding. "What?"

"I think someone," he whispered, starting to shake with anger, "was in. My house."

He could practically feel Niall's fear radiating off the phone. Fearful that if someone was actually in Harry's house, then he would be shot down so fast his dead self would get whiplash. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"One of my fetus jars was on the floor. Broken. Knocked off the shelf, I'm guessing. And I know for a fact that I didn't do this." His voice was strained as his anger flooded through him, causing him to close his fist around the unborn squirrel and squeeze: feeling the unformed organs and goo errupt from the embryo and leak through the spaces between his clenched fingers. He heard the patters as the excess fluids landed on his floor, adding to the already existing puddle near his feet.

"What are you going to do?"

Harry breathed in sharply through his nose, letting the oxygen flood his brain before letting himself breath it out. "For now, take my anger out on someone unsuspecting. Then, I'll figure out what to fucking do."

Harry hung up before Niall could process what was said.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

"What do you mean you never fucking saw him!?"

"I mean, that I was a-fucking-sleep when this fucking guy was killed! How many more times do I have to fucking tell you!? I didn't see him, for God sake! Get off my back!"

Zayn sighed, hands running through his hair as he stopped his pacing around the room.

They had both been screaming at him for the past two hours, now. About how there was someone - a nurse! - killed in his very room, ten feet away from him only a very few hours ago. Yes, its utterly terrifying. Yes, his heart beat is still hammering away right now and you can hear it echoing around the room but he wasn't awake when it happened and he doesn't know how many more times he has to goddamn say it before everyone understands that he _didn't see Crimson_.

"Zayn, love, come on. Lou's been through enough with the police investigating him. Give him a break."

Zayn looked towards Liam, slowing feeling his anger subside as he stared into his brown eyes. "I'm just scared, okay? Why was he in here, anyway? In Lou's room, of all places. Why was his heart monitor turned off? What does this crazy fucking nutjob want with Louis!?"

Liam sighed, he had been asking himself those same questions. "I want to know those answers, too, alright? But come on, he's pretty shaken up right now and we need to understand that even though he didn't see the fucker, Lou's still pretty terrified because of it."

Louis threw his head back in exasperation, staring up at the ceiling and ignoring the slight pain he felt when his head hit the pillow. "I love when you guys talk about me as if I'm not here."

Zayn threw himself into the chair opposite Liam's, grabbing Louis' hand and softly running his fingers over his knuckles. "'Im sorry. You didn't see him, I know that. I'm just so scared for you."

"We both are." Liam chimed in.

Louis sighed. "I know you are, but please stop asking me questions you already know the answers to. And please change the subject, for God sake. Before one of the doctors come rushing in from my erratic heartbeat."

"Think all of them are too scared to, love."

Louis pinched Liam's arm in retaliation.

"Where were you two when this shit happened, anyway?"

Zayn and Liam stared at eachother and Louis watched as regret and sadness passed through their eyes. "We were at lunch with Niall, actually."

Louis looked between them. "Who's Niall?"

"He's one of the guys who helped us find you."

Louis scoffed. "And you're having lunch with him? I've been in hospital for two days and you've already replaced me? You cunts."

Liam laughed. "You know we'd never do that to you, Lou. We both love you more than anything."

"Almost anything." Zayn added in, staring intently at his boyfriend on the other side of his best friend's hospital bed.

Louis gagged. "Please, you both know I'm more important and therefore would bow down to me first before you got on your knees for eachother."

Zayn rolled his eyes. "You are so self-centered."

"I had literal brush with death, today, Zayn. I'm allowed to be self-centered."

"But what about the other 364 days of the year?"

Louis shrugged. "I just know of my importance to society."

Zayn was about to reply before they heard the commotion of the street down below.

Zayn and Liam both rushed to the room's window before looking down to the street and seeing the many news reporters and crews blocking up the road. Liam's eyes were wide as Zayn's heart beat began to quicken.

"What's going on out there? Car crash?"

Liam shook his head, turning around to face the bed-ridden boy. "News crews. And a lot of them. They've literally blocked up the entire street."

Louis shuddered. "I'm finally getting the recognition I deserve but for all the wrong reasons." He whispered to himself.

Louis was tired, to be honest. It had been a long day and he was truthfully still so scared about what happened before despite his banter with his friends. He didn't know why he was being triggered as the next victim, he didn't know what he had done; but it was petrifying and so serious what was happening. He had police offers standing guard outside his door and police at the entrance of the hospital and everytime his doctor came in, he'd be accompanied by, of course, an officer and now there were news crews on the street below - no doubt wanting to know if he saw Crimson - and no matter how hard he was trying he couldnt calm himself down and get his heartbeat to stop being so erratic and he just wanted this is to all be a dream. A really horrible dream. A nightmare.

And it was. But, it was a real-life nightmare.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

Harry hadn't stopped shaking the entire walk. His breathing was heavy and his heart was pounding and his skin was heated and despite the cold rain that was pouring itself down his body he still wasn't able to cool off.

He was soaked to the bone and under normal circumstances he'd be cold as hell but his anger had taken over his entire body and he couldn't feel anything. He was numb. His anger always made him numb. He wouldn't have even been able to feel the painful scratching that was Vee's laugh.

_Are you sure about that, Crimson?_

He couldn't even hear the voice. Whether it was in his head or not, he could only process white noise and the instincts in his body telling him to kill the first fucker he sees. He didn't care who they were. He didn't care where they were from or what their life was like. He only had one thing on his mind right now and no one was going to stop him from proceeding those actions. Not even himself.

Ironically, the first fucker he saw was a literal fucker. And luckily for him, no one would ever miss a prostitute. Harry knew she probably thought he was there for a "good time" judging by her flirty stance and smirk, and in a way he actually was. But in a totally different rendition of what prostitutes usually meant by it. He didn't even bother trying to entice her, just grabbed her throat and dragged her into the nearest abandoned building - which there seemed to be a lot of in this part of the city.

He seemed to have stormed into an old metal works store. A crappy, disgusting shop that used to sell any form of hardware and had since been totally forgotten. It had none of its last supplies removed, and Harry used that fact to his advantage as he passed a shelf filled with assorted stable wires and took a packet.

He threw the whore on the check-out counter, not once removing the pressure from her neck and enjoying how her attempted struggles to break free weakened with each passing second. He tore the wire packaging off with his teeth and increased his strength on the whore's neck. He continued to hold the pressure for a minute, before feeling her slowly enfeebling heartbeat come to a complete stop beneath his finger tips.

Harry removed his hand then and stared down at her. The prostitutes orange hair was messy from struggle and she wore more make-up then was necessary; which was easily shown on her pale skin. Choking her took the edge off a little bit, but he was far from finished.

He used the wire to securely tie her to the broken check-out counter; lightly pushing her hip when he was done to see if she'd fall off - which she wouldn't, no matter how rough he was. He then went in searching for the other two tools he'd need.

He found them both in roughly the same area, but only one was actually on a shelf. As he grabbed the sharpest tool and began tearing the packaging off the handle: he saw his other necessity on the floor. Fortunately most of the windows were in fact broken and that left him with less work to do. He grabbed what looked to be the most clean cut piece of glass from the floor: then proceeded to walk back to the dead whore.

He decided to start with the larger tool first, placing the piece of glass near the whore's head. Harry didn't even need to lift up her shirt: her crop top gave him all the access he needed to her waist line. Placing a hand on her far hip and holding tight, he brought the teeth of the saw to her side in line with her navel piercing. He applied pressure and watched as beads of maroon rose to the surface, staring in fascination as he began his work.

He pushed the saw forward and dragged it back to his chest across her skin, pushing down hard on her torso and slowly becoming aggressive with it. He felt laughter bubble up in his throat, his eyes wide and mouth grinning manically as he sawed her in half: observing how much blood dripped from her sides. He started to get faster in his destruction; almost feeling how soft and easy it was to cut through her organs and watching little fragments of them actually escape from her body.

He began laughing when he heard the grotesque and sickly grinding sound of the metal cutting through her spine. The scent of something burning was coming from the spine and he could basically see the little dust particles that broke off with every push and tug.

He knew he had finished when he smelt the grinding of wood instead of bone. He pulled the saw out from between her halved body and threw it on the floor: grinning a smile from his hometown as he stared in awe at the barely visible line that separated her body into two pieces.

He walked around the counter to her legs - pointedly ignoring the fact that she was going commando under her mini-skirt - and began to untie the wire around her ankles. He hastily removed the plastic string and let it fall to the floor as he wrapped his hands tightly around her ankles. Harry gave a slight pull as he watched her whole body become two. Some of her organs had been cut in halves and tumbled out of her no-longer secure body and blood rushed from her destroyed veins and arteries: covering the entire counter and floor in beautiful crimson fluids that had Harry swooning.

In the back of his mind, Harry slightly worried about what Louis would think of his actions, but he refused to acknowledge those thoughts.

He creeped back up the side of the table to her face and stared down at her features. She wasn't beautiful in comparison to Louis. She had none of his physical characteristics. No button nose or thin, beautiful lips. No high cheek bones and thin jaw line. No soft eyelids or small ears or brown hair or kissable forehead. She had nothing. She was nothing, really.

Harry then had no trouble opening her mouth, grabbing the decent sized piece of glass and putting it against the corners of her lips.

He used the same process as with the hack saw and pushed forward with his wrist before pulling back and causing little cuts to appear. He quickened his pace and held a tight grip on her jaw; cutting through the flesh on her face from the edge's of her mouth to as far as her jawline would allow him to. The skin on her face was tougher to cut, but Harry blamed it on the fact that he was using a piece of glass instead of a bloody saw.

He pulled the glass out from her mouth and looked at his partial handy work. Running his finger over the fresh, bleeding cut and not even bothering to hide his astonishment. He stared at the blood that ran down his finger and couldn't help but bring his hand to his mouth and lick the liquid off his digit. The rusty taste that flooded his taste buds made his mouth water.

He started off on the prostitute's other cheek, carefully cutting and taking his time with every stroke. A look of concentration passed his face and as he pulled back for the second time, staring down at his completed work: he threw the glass shard on the floor and grabbed her cheeks. He turned her face side to side and felt his own Glasgow Smile spread across his face.

"Oh, Louis ... You're going to have such a loving smile."

Harry waited for the blood to drain from her body, before cleaning up the tools and removing his finger prints from the inches of her body that he touched. He had found gloves - much to his good fortune - and put them over his hands, before grabbing the whore's two halves and dumping them five streets away from the abandonded building: in an empty lot that was covered in grass and dirt.

He disposed of the gloves kindly: digging up a hole and burying them deep within the Earth before using his foot to cover them up again.

He felt sated and at ease, walking home at 4AM and letting his thoughts run wild as he figured out ways to deal with his supposed 'intruder' and future love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking: "This was so not worth the one year wait."  
> I am sorry. Truly, heartily, sincerely sorry.
> 
> Massive thank you to those who waited so patiently for me to get my shit together, and also to larryfanfiction and bottomlouislibrary on tumblr for posting my fic. You are the true hotdogs.
> 
> That was the famous Black Dahlia death that I am so utterly fascinated with. There will be another chapter. Of course. 
> 
> Feel free to comment how much you hate me. I deserve it. Or tweet it to me. (@apollostyles) 
> 
> -Porcelain.xx


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